Bound by Blood: The Accursed Heirs
by TheNefariousMe
Summary: Sequel to Bound by Blood. Summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Bound by Blood: The Accursed Heirs**

**A mysterious force has entered Hogwarts at the dawn of the Firebrands' second year. Strange voices echo through the minds of some of their founding members, and the Chamber of Secrets has been re-opened. When one of their own is struck down, the friends vow revenge and race against time to unravel a centuries-old plot. Except... could it be one of their own who opened the Chamber in the first place?**

**Secrets, sorcery, seers and Stones colide as truths are revealed, friends are made, pasts are hidden, and enemies emerge from ancient shadows.**


	2. A Seer Discovered

A Seer Discovered

_Wiltshire, England, 1992_

It was hot. Very, very hot.

This eloquent observation was made by a postman who went by the unfortunate name of Leonard Pritchitt as he drove up the hill to the old manor house that overlooked the village below. He'd never delivered anything here before, or at least he didn't think he had, and he had been hoping that his lucky streak would continue. He'd been the mail carrier for this village for neigh on six years now, after all.

Village folk said that the place made all sorts of storms appear from nowhere, and some swore that there was a wolf that lived there. Some of the younger, more daring ones who claimed to have ventured close to the old house even argued that they saw ghosts around the mansion, pale, blond phantoms, with eyes of blue and gray that could make your blood run cold with a single glance.

Yes, the village as a whole believed the old manor house to be haunted.

Leonard Pritchitt thought that this was ridiculous. There was no house in the village that was haunted (except perhaps the one belonging to a Mister Rupert St. Cloud, but that was an entirely different matter), and certainly not _this_ house, which had been preserved for centuries by local historians.

Although he scoffed at anyone proclaiming that this place was haunted, there did seem to be something sinister about it. Something that made him want to throw the package and run, though he had no idea why he would be feeling this way, as doing what he desired would surely get him sacked.

And so he pushed down a bit harder on the gas pedal and attempted to swallow his ridiculous fears as he and his truck climbed higher and higher up the hill.

And just who has a package delivered to an abandoned manor, anyhow?

_The "Abandoned" Manor  
_

"Drake! It's time to say 'Boo'!"

A young boy whooped and jumped off of an antique sofa, dropping a rather odd pair of brass binoculars on the floor as he scrambled. He ran from the room and rounded a corner, stumbling up an elegant staircase, sandy-blond hair flopping onto his face and obscuring one side of his glasses. He tripped on the last step and went sprawling, loudly shouting an impressive string of expletives at the offending (inanimate) object, and picked himself up and ran into a large, comfortable room just a bit down the hall.

He made a flying leap and landed on a lumpy bed with a cheer, beginning to jump up and down.

"Draco! Wake up! Wake! UP!" he yelled.

An arm reached out from under the covers and grabbed the jumping boy's ankle.

The excited boy yelped and toppled off of the bed, and the boy the arm was attached to stuck his sleep-mussed head out from under the rumpled blanket, blinking owlishly.

"Whabludytimizit?" the boy- evidently Draco- yawned, stretching.

"It's time for the Muggle mail!" the sandy-haired boy shouted, grabbing the blonds' arm and dragging him bodily down the stairs, grinning cheerfully the entire way.

"Izfinullycomin'?" Draco asked, yawning again.

"Yeah, and we have to keep him away," the lively boy said, rolling his eyes dramatically and giving the other boy a wicked grin. "Happens every time they get a new postman, it seems."

The boys arrived at a broom cupboard, and both took out what seemed to be intricately crafted sticks, each no more than a foot long, and pointed them at one another.

Suddenly, the boys turned a deathly white, and dark circles bloomed beneath their eyes. A strange creature brought them two packets of a red liquid which strongly resembled blood. The boys poured the packets in their mouths and grinned bloody grins.

They looked rather… dead, truth be told, and they then pointed the sticks at themselves.

The boys were floating weightlessly through the air, a few feet above the ground.

They looked positively ghoulish.

_Outside the "Abandoned" Manor _

Leonard Pritchitt was shaking when his truck broke down at the ancient front gate. Licking his chapped lips, he grabbed the package and clambered out of the vehicle. He felt the terrible need to go back, to leave his truck and the package at the top of the hill and run back down to the village, and damn the consequences.

He peered through the rusty ironwork bars and saw exactly what one would expect of an abandoned home's lawn: lifeless brown grass, overgrown dead shrubs, sinister-looking trees, papers, broken glass, and a forgotten beer bottle which looked to be more than twenty years old.

As he pushed the gate open, it creaked a horrible creak, a creak that seemed to make his brain feel as though it were turned to mush with the pain of it.

He really, really wanted to turn back now, and he was just about to drop the stupid package and leap off of the hill when he saw them.

Two children- boys, no older than thirteen- staring down at him from where they hovered above his head. One, who seemed to be slighter and darker-haired, bared his teeth and hissed, a primal, feral sound which sent shivers down Leonard's spine. Blood dripped from the boy's mouth and onto poor Mister Pritchitt's bloodless face.

The other boy floated closer, gray eyes flashing with rage. "What _filth _dares to disturb my home?" he snarled, pale, thin hands reaching for Leonard's neck.

The other boy cackled and floated until he was shoulder to shoulder with the other boy.

"Please, don't!" Leonard cried, throwing his arms up to protect himself, and squeezing his eyes closed.

"Leave, then!" the boys roared.

Leonard opened one eye and removed his arms from his face.

The ghosts were gone.

With a howl, he tore through the gate, down the hill, and into the village, screaming all the way. When he reached the town square, he passed out, completely terrified.

However, when he awoke several hours later, he couldn't quite recall what had scared him so.

All he could say was that he would never deliver another package to that house as long as he lived.

_Malfoy Manor (The "Abandoned" Manor)  
_

"Oh my god!"

"Oh, Ade! Did you see his face? Hahahahahahahaha!"

"Oh, oh Merlin, my ribs hur-hahahahahahaha!"

The two boys, now looking very un-ghostly, were rolling in the green grass, laughing hysterically and clutching their sides.

"Master Adrian, Master Draco, is you being alright?"

The boys looked up and saw a decidedly odd-looking creature; it was no more than three feet tall, with huge green eyes the size of tennis balls, a pointed nose, and bat-like ears. It wore a dishtowel like a loincloth and was staring worriedly at them.

"Oh, haha, Dobby, we're fine, thanks," Adrian, the bespectacled brother laughed, coming to his feet and pulling Draco up.

"Missy Vela is playing Snitch-Seeker inside. She be's saying you is having to find her, sirs," Dobby reported.

"Oh, IS she, now?" Draco smirked, knowing how easy it would be to find his three-year old sister, even in the large manor. Adrian shared the smirk with his brother.

"Yes, sirs, and Master Lucius is already being at the Ministry, and Mistress Cissa is saying that you both be's in charge of watching Missy Vela," Dobby continued. "Mistress Cissa be's in London for the day, she says."

"Alright, let's find her so we can go to the pond," Adrian said. "It's too sunny to be inside all day."

Draco nodded and loped easily to the manor and up the stairs, his long legs far outstretching his brother's, and slipped into the house. Adrian came in moments later, shutting the door quietly behind.

"Marvela," Draco crooned. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

"Vela, come on, I just want a good-morning hug!" Adrian yelled, dashing through the house.

The game of Snitch and Seeker was very similar to Hide-and-go-Seek. In Snitch and Seeker, however, there were two "Seekers" attempting to find one "Snitch", each Seeker trying to find and catch the Snitch before the other player did.

Adrian spent the next hour racing through the house in search of his baby sister, as did Draco.

"Have you found her yet, Drake?" Adrian asked as he ran down yet another hallway, his brother hot on his heels.

"Yeah, I found her five minutes ago. I just love all the exercise," Draco said, sarcasm dripping from his every word.

"Don't be an arse," Adrian muttered. "Aren't you getting a bit worried?"

"A bit," Draco admitted. "We should've found her a long time ago. Unless-"

The footfalls behind him dropped off as Adrian skidded to a halt. "You don't think she would've gone down that way, do you?"

"I dunno, but we've looked everywhere else, Ade," Draco said.

"But- if she is there…." Adrian's voice trailed off.

The brothers knew that the east wing of their home was forbidden to them until they came of age. There were abandoned rooms and a parlor there, and Merlin knew what else could be hidden there.

The brothers ran toward the wing at a dead run toward the east wing.

"Loki!" Adrian yelled.

His huge, black, wolf-like dog familiar appeared seconds later, running alongside the boys.

"Find Marvela!" Adrian yelled. "Bring her back to the drawing room, now!"

The abnormally intelligent canine barked and took off, shooting past them.

"We should check the parlor there first," Draco said. "It's the only room that isn't locked in that wing."

They ran up the stairs and into a dark, dust-covered room.

Draco sneezed. The house elves had been ordered to leave this wing be many, many years ago, and it seemed that they had been following their orders, if the quarter inch of dust that covered everything was any judge.

"She was here," Adrian said grimly, pointing to the toddler-sized footprints tracked through the dust on the dark wooden floor, and the large animal ones. "And so was Loki."

"We'd better hope that it was Loki," Draco muttered under his breath.

The dog in question ran into the room, panting and drooling. Seeing the brothers, he woofed and jerked his head down a darker and dustier hallway before running off in that direction, his boy and his boy's brother just a few steps behind him.

The dog led them to a door that was just barely cracked open and whimpered, backing away from it and growling.

"She has to be in there," Draco said.

"But how? All of these doors are warded," Adrian replied, taking a hesitant step toward the door.

"Accidental magic, maybe? Whatever it is, we need to get her out of there. This is the same wing where we found that Boggart a long time ago," Draco said.

They pushed the door open.

There was a small blond girl sitting in the center of the room with her back to them, staring up at the ceiling.

"Marvela?" Adrian said. "Marvela, what are you-"

_"This is the hour in which prophesy shall be enacted, and not in a millennia has any been so important,"_ she crooned, tilting her head side to side as she stared at the ceiling.

Goosebumps erupted on her brothers. This was not their sister's voice. This voice was raspy and wheezy and scratchy and made them want to flee.

"_The Accursed Heirs,_

_Their numbers merely five,_

_Have the power to open a gateway unto death's door,_

_Or to keep our world alive._

_One is shrouded in prophesies long ago foretold,_

_And his nemesis is another who shall never die old._

_Three of them are brothers, though two know it not,_

_And one shall enact a bravery long ago forgot._

_One shall be a general, though he shall hate it to be so,_

_For if he follows the path he is on,_

_His kin shall be his foe._

_Another is a warrior,_

_Fearless, swift, and sly._

_And though he shall be cursed by many,_

_It shall sway him neigh._

_He is a traitor, though he shall wish it untrue._

_His faithful heart, in the end, shall once again prove true._

_The third heir is the evil one,_

_His is a fearful kind of fame,_

_He has a power none shall match,_

_So long as he lives up to his name._

_The fourth and fifth are brothers, though they know it not._

_The ruler shall strike the darkness,_

_And the dark one shall bring light._

_The Accursed Heirs are duty bound to seek that which was never meant to be found."_

She shuddered and turned to face them, pouting a bit.

"How did you find me? I was all hid!" she cried, her voice once more young and childlike.

"Vela, what- what were you saying?"

"I asked how you found m-"

"No, no, before that! What were you saying about the Accursed Heirs?" Draco said.

"Silly, I didn' say anythin' like that," she giggled, crystal blue eyes shining. Her brow furrowed. "What does 'accuwsed' mean, Adwian?"

Adrian swallowed the lump in his throat as he scooped her up. "It means cursed, Vela. Accursed means cursed."

"I don't think we're going to get to go swiming today after all, Ade," Draco sighed.

Adrian groaned as the went down the staircase- not racing, for once- and shook his head miserably. "Dobby!"

The little elf appeared at his elbow. "What is you needing, Master Adrian?"

"We need to go to the Ministry," Adrian sighed, shifting his sister's weight. "We have to report a new Seer and prophesy to the Department of Mysteries."

**Hey, and welcome back to another story!**

**As you can see, the formatting is a bit different, like how the text is left aligned, and there is no date. I won't be doing dates anymore, as they kinda restrict how long the chapters can be. I will still be mentioning the location of where the story is taking place, but no more dates. And it is left aligned now because I got so many complaints.**

**Enjoy, review, and have a lovely day/ night (depending on when you read this and where you are)**

**-TheNefariousMe**


	3. The Department of Mysteries

**The Department of Mysteries**

_Department of Mysteries, Ministry of Magic, London, England, 1992_

It was an odd sight to behold; three children marching importantly into offices that weren't even visible from the outside. Their being able to see the most secretive Department Headquarters in the Ministry of Magic implied one of two things to be true: either these children had a scheduled appointment with the Department Head (unlikely), or they had business important enough to warrant an unscheduled visit.

The tallest, a blond boy with piercing gray eyes and an arrogant air about him swaggered up to the front desk, leaving the two others, a girl of perhaps three and a bespectacled boy near his own age, standing quietly in the background. "We need to make an appointment."

"With whom, may I ask?" the clerk sneered unpleasantly.

The boy didn't flinch at the harsh tone. "Most likely, someone infinitely more important than you, desk jockey. I need to visit the Department Head."

"And just when, you arrogant little upstart, would you suggest I interrupt his important work so that you can speak to him?" the clerk asked, going red in the face.

The boy examined his nails disinterestedly. "Well, as soon as we walked in would have been preferable," he drawled as the clerk turned purple. "But I suppose that right now would work just as well."

"What exactly is this visit regarding?" the purple clerk asked through clenched teeth.

The boy looked up and glared, his mouth turning down slightly at the corners. "That is none of your concern. If it were your concern, I would hope that you wouldn't be as useless as you appear to be. Now, get your Department Head out here. Immediately."

"And who," the clerk spat, truly enraged, "is asking for an immediate appointment?"

The boy smirked, a malicious, predatory, unmistakable smirk. The clerk knew the name before it left the boy's mouth.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy." He leaned forward, still smirking. "Any more questions?"

_Department Head's Office, Department of Mysteries_

The man before them was not large. He was, in fact, average height, average weight, and average looking, with brown hair and brown eyes. His nose was straight, and his face clean-shaven. All in all, the man was quite possibly the most ordinary-looking wizard he'd ever seen.

But, he supposed, perhaps that was the brilliance of it: if no one noticed your face, or picked you out in a crowd, you ran no risk of exposure. No one was to call the Director of the Department of Mysteries by his first name, if they knew it at all. To do so was to ask for a memory wipe, which, he supposed, was a good policy in so secretive a place.

"What can I help you with today?" the Head asked.

"Sir, we would like to report a new Seer and a new prophesy," Draco said as Adrian bounced their sister on his knee, watching the man closely.

His eyes widened slightly. "Is that so? Where are your parents, Mister Malfoy?"

"They can't be here," Adrian said quietly. "Our father is somewhere in the building, and Mother is somewhere in London. We came here as soon as we found out about Vela's…. gift."

The man leaned forward, looking intently at the little girl. "She has the gift of the Sight?"

The brothers nodded grimly. "We're sure of it, sir, or we wouldn't bother you at all," Adrian said.

The man stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Adrian wasn't sure at all about this man. There was a power in him that thrummed and sang through his carefully crafted coils around it, threatening to break free at any moment. Everything about him was nondescript. He would be willing to bet money that when he left the office, he would have trouble remembering what the man looked like.

He was fake. Everything about him was fake, a carefully constructed disguise that would render him intangible.

"We need to get her abilities tested, but we need the consent of her parents first," he said, almost apologetic.

"They're unavailable at the moment, and as I'm the Malfoy heir, and I can accept minor responsibilities of my family before I come of age, Director," Draco said seriously.

Adrian rolled his eyes. He hated it when Drake pulled that "Malfoy heir" crap. Really, he was only a few minutes older than Adrian, barely any time at all, and he got to inherit the family name, fortune, and prestige. Of course, he'd share it with his siblings equally, but it still stung that even though he was basically the same age, and had just as much right to inherit, it was an impossibility for him to do so.

Even so, he admired his brother's coolness under pressure.

"Mister Malfoy, I understand the policies that govern your family and its members. However-"

"Then don't try to challenge the way we do things, Mister Director," Draco said simply, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

The Director's expression tightened, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Very well, sir. I will direct you to the appropriate Chief, and let you be on your-"

"Director," Draco smiled, "I am a bit worried for my sister's safety in this matter, as well as my brother's. I was hoping that perhaps we could acquire a personal escort from the Director himself. We are, after all, still children, and unable to effectively protect ourselves among other wizards, due to the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Magic."

"That is highly unconventional, Mister Malfoy, as you won't be leaving the department. I see no need-"

Draco stood with an apologetic smile, and Adrian followed suit, holding a sleepy Marvela. "Then I'm afraid that we must be going. It was good to see you, Director."

The three Malfoy children walked out the door and down the hallway, heading for the exit.

"What are you doing?" Adrian hissed, shifting Marvela on his hip. "We need their help, Drake."

Draco picked up the pace as they entered the sitting area. "I know that," he replied. "But Father taught me that in order to lead in life, you have to make yourself clear and uncompromising at the start, or people will walk all over you and your family. If I'd done what he said, I would lose respect for myself. I wanted a personal escort to protect us, and, by Merlin, I'll have a personal escort." His expression turned suddenly cold. "Besides, he had better damn well see a need when it comes to Marvela's protection."

Adrian thought on this as they exited the office. While his brother was being unreasonable, he also held up a valid claim; that power is for those strong, fierce, and stubborn enough to reach out and grab hold of it. "Fine, I see your point, Draco, but that doesn't change the fact that we have no idea what to do about this, and we need their help!"

"Just wait," Draco smirked as they neared the lifts which would take them up to the atrium. "Five, four, three, two-"

"Messers and Miss Malfoy!"

Draco grinned broadly before turning around, wiping his delighted expression away and replacing it with a bored mask. "Yes?"

The man panted slightly. "The Director of the Department of Mysteries would like to request a meeting with you."

"I see," Draco said, lifting Marvela out of Adrian's arms and settling her on his hip. "And when would he like this meeting to be held?"

"Now, sir," the man said.

Draco pulled an antique silver pocket watch out of his robe and examined it closely. "Yes, I suppose we have time to see the Director now," he shrugged, slipping the watch back into his pocket. "Let's go."

_Department Head's Office, Department of Mysteries (again)_

"I am sorry about what I said earlier, Mister Malfoy. It was shortsighted of me not to realize that all you wanted was protection for your sister," the Director said stiffly.

Draco smiled benignly "It is forgiven, Director. Now, about that escort…" 

"Thank you for the escort, Director," Draco grinned, grasping Marvela's hand tightly as she walked between Adrian and him.

"It wasn't a problem, Mister Malfoy," the Director said tightly, barely restraining a glare.

Adrian snickered quietly into his hand.

"Here we are, the Hall of Prophesy," the Director said. "Few people who do not work here every day have ever entered this room."

Adrian followed the nondescript man into the room and gasped.

This was truly a room of wonder: the glittering black tiles covered everything from the sprawling floors to the ceilings that were at least ninety feet above. And even then, there were hundreds upon hundreds of shelves, all with neat rows of what appeared to be small crystal balls. There were no torches here, and the strange floating lights lent the room and odd blue tint. The Hall was also unbelievably cold, and Adrian fought to keep from shivering as he trotted after the Director, marveling at the sights around him.

The Director walked to the opposite end of the hall and spoke to a cloaked man there before the Malfoy children caught up. The other man looked in their direction, nodded, and walked away briskly.

"This is where I will make a copy of the memory and place it into a crystal container. The memory will then be thoroughly examined to determine whether or not it is a true prophesy. Once its validity is proven, the prophesy will be dated, catalogued, and stored in this, the Hall of Prophesy." He looked down at them. "Any questions?"

"Yes, sir," Adrian said. "Where can we have her abilities tested?"

The man's eyes roved uncomfortably over him. "You can have her tested either here in two weeks, or in one at Gringott's, but no sooner, as a true Prophet or Seer must be brought into the country."

Adrian nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, sir."

"I should like to have your abilities tested and validated, as well, Adrian Malfoy," the Director said suddenly. "I feel that great things are in store for you and your family as well."

"I- thank you, sir. I'll ask my father about this," Adrian said, ducking his head respectfully.

"Now, I need you, Mister Draco Malfoy, to remember the event as best you can…"

"Why Draco? Why not Marvela herself?" Adrian asked.

"Well, mostly due to the fact that she is only three years old, and would have a difficult time recalling a specific memory on demand, but also because most, if not all, true prophesies are not remembered by those who gave them, and would thus not be in any of their memories," the Director explained patiently.

Draco closed his eyes tightly, face screwed up in concentration and the Director raised his wand to the blond boy's forehead.

Adrian was fascinated as a thin, silvery strand of memory was taken from his brother's mind and placed carefully within a crystal ball identical to the ones lining the shelves around them.

"There, that should do it. Now, as witnesses, I need your signatures for recordkeeping," the Director said, producing a sheet of parchment and a long, thin black quill from thin air.

Draco took the proffered utensils and began writing, only to yelp and throw the quill away in shock when it touched the paper. "It cut me!" he cried.

"It is a blood quill, Mister Malfoy," the Director said tonelessly, though a quirk at the corner of his mouth suggested that he was attempting to hold back a smile.

"Ah, right. A blood quill, of course it is," Draco mumbled, taking up the quill again and scribbling his name quickly before handing the tool to his brother. "If you do it fast, it doesn't hurt so much," he advised.

Adrian scrawled his name with a flourish, grinning smugly at his brother, as he'd managed to do it without crying out.

"Thank you," the Director said. "I truly hope she is a Seer. We haven't had one permanently residing in England for near to twenty years, and even then, she was a young adult when her power manifested. This gives us a rare opportunity to study the effects of such a powerful gift on one so young."

"I don't think our father would appreciate you using his daughter for research purposes-"

"Well, come what may, this is truly exciting news for this Department," the Director said, seemingly lost in thought as the boys smiled and nodded awkwardly. "Well, off you go, children."

The three Malfoys started back toward the door.

"Was it just me, or was he-" Adrian started.

"-a bit of a nutter? Yeah," Draco snorted. "Did you see the way he acted toward the end? Completely mental!"

"I wouldn't say that, but he did get a bit funny, didn't he?" Adrian chuckled.

"A bit? He sounded like that loony editor for The Quibbler, what's his name…?" Draco laughed.

"I think it's Lovegood," Adrian said, scratching his head thoughtfully. "Uh, Xavier Lovegood? No, ah, Xylo…? Xeno! That's his name, Xeno Lovegood!"


	4. Bedtime Stories

**Bedtime Stories**

_ Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 1992_

He sat there in his study, positively reeling.

It shouldn't be possible, his baby shackled to the unforgiving fate of a seer.

It was quiet in his study. Even as the rain spattered against the window panes, it was nothing more than a gentle tapping.

"The sky is crying, Daddy," Adrian had said once when they had been caught in the rain. He had assured his son that the sky had no reason to be sad, or afraid, and that the rain was simply rain, but Adrian ad been adamant. "The sky _is_ crying, Daddy, can't you see it?"

But that was a very long time ago.

And in this place, in this very moment, the sky did seem to be crying, mourning the loss of a free childhood, the loss of innocence. The loss of any freedom she could have had.

She was a seer.

He felt the pressure behind his eyes building, and hastily took a deep, albeit shaky, breath.

He would _not_ cry. Not when there was work to be done.

"Da?"

He jumped violently, and startled her. "What is it, Vela?"

She looked down at the ground shyly, clutching her bear to her chest, afraid that he was mad. "Uwsa had a bad dweam, Da."

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch as he looked at the little girl. "Did she now?" Marvela nodded, looking at him expectantly. "Does Ursa need a hug?"

She nodded eagerly, curls bouncing wildly around her face. "She needs a stowy, too."

"A story?" Lucius grinned, opening his arms to her, and she ran to him and clambered onto his lap, Ursa held closely to her. "Didn't I already read you a story?"

"The bad dweam wuined it, Da," she said as though it were obvious. "New stowy?"

"Very well," he shifted her in his lap, grapping his reading glasses from the desk and hugging her close. He opened his top drawer and felt around until his fingers brushed the soft, old leather of the same book that had been read to him when he was a child. He carefully pulled it out of the drawer and opened it. "Which story would make Ursa feel better about the bad dream?"

Marvela put her ear next to the bear's snout and nodded in agreement. "Babbitty Wabbitty."

He chuckled. "Alright, brat. Once upon a time…."

"Which story is it?"

"Shhhh! I can't hear, Draco!"

He glared and settled down just outside the door, bumping shoulders with his brother as he did so. "Well? Which one?"

"I think…. Yep, it's Babbitty Rabbitty." Adrian grinned. "That one was my favorite, too! She _does_ take more after me!"

Draco stuck his tongue out at his brother childishly, and both boys sat silently listening to their father telling a story they'd heard a thousand times before.

But in all honesty, they just couldn't help themselves; when their father spoke; people- important people- listened.

Why should they be any different?

Besides, you were never really too old for a good fairy tale, after all.

LMMMAMDMLMMMAMDM

"To this very day, the statue still stands, and no witch or wizard is ever harmed there," Lucius finished quietly, "the end."

By this time, Marvela was sound asleep, and had been for a while, but he hadn't stopped reading on her account. He had other listeners too, after all.

He carefully picked up his little daughter and carried her out of his study, leaving the book in his chair as he went. As he stepped out the door, he saw them, legs sprawled and mouths open, sleeping in the hall. Adrian's head was resting on the doorframe, and Draco's was lying on his brother's shoulder. Both were snoring lightly.

He snorted at them in amusement and carried Marvela to her bed before returning to the hall outside the study. He carefully picked Draco up off the floor so as not to wake him up.

"Dad, I can walk," Draco mumbled, but didn't struggle as Lucius carried him to his bedroom. Lucius gently laid his son down in the large bed, covering him with an over-filled down comforter in a beautiful shade of sea blue, swirls of gray and green and white spread through the covers so that they appeared to move.

Draco had begged and pleaded for several weeks last summer to be allowed to design his own room. When he'd finally gotten permission, he'd practically exhausted the elves by keeping them up for several days and nights redecorating.

When they'd finished, however, Lucius had to admit that it was an improvement over the original design. Three of the walls were a deep blue with shades of iridescent silver and green shirting through and changing every so often, and were lined with bookshelves and shelves that held mementos and photos and games. His most prized possession was a shimmering, solid-platinum dragon model that had been given to him by his parents when he was born. The dragon was three feet long and a foot tall and often flew around the room, usually coming to rest on its stand, which sat next to the same family photo that hung in the drawing room downstairs. The fourth and largest wall was a huge and intricately detailed mural of a sea battle. The ships rocked back and forth in the moving waves, and tiny cannon balls flew through the air. The pirates and sailors fought and ran about, and a kraken was just visible in the corner, slowly moving toward the two ships. The sky in the mural was stormy, and in Draco's room, you could faintly hear rain and thunder, the tiny boom of cannons, and waves. The very air smelled of the sea.

" Goodnight, Draco," he said, brushing a few strands of hair out of the boy's eyes.

When he returned once more to the hall, Adrian was still sleeping, but instead of moving him to his room, or waking him, Lucius simply watched the slow but strong rise and fall of the boy's chest. The way his long, shaggy hair fell onto his face, even the way his glasses were skewed.

He smiled. At the beginning of the summer, Adrian hadn't needed his glasses, but after a few weeks, he reluctantly began wearing them again, because whatever had fixed his eyesight was obviously not permanent. He'd hated asking for his glasses back after finally being free of them, even for only a few short weeks.

He looked so little like his parents- any of his parents- that it surprised Lucius sometimes. He would see the same spark in Adrian's eyes as he'd seen in James Potter's so many times when they were at school, and in the same instant, he'd recognize his own smile. He would see the startling green contrasting with the bright silver- gray that had long characterized the Malfoy men, and blending easily with the dark blue that was so often seen in his wife's family.

He knew who Adrian was, of course. He'd have to have been an idiot not to finally put the pieces together last December. Originally, he was Harry James Potter, a boy with loving parents who didn't want their son to grow up in the shadow of his twin brother.

And Lucius understood the logic of that. He truly did.

What he didn't understand is how they could actually bring themselves to do it.

He was a murderer, a thief, and assassin. But he loved his children so much that it pained him to send them to Hogwarts each year.

The loss of his first child, his Annabelle, had very nearly killed him. It still hurt unbelievably, sometimes, like her birthday. But to willingly give away a child, and quite possibly lose them forever?

He could never do it.

He shook his head slightly and cleared his throat. He slowly picked up the slightly built boy and carefully shifted him in his arms.

Adrian mumbled softly and buried his face in Lucius' chest, much the same way that he'd done as a toddler.

Lucius smiled as he walked into Adrian's room. Of all the children's rooms, Adrian's was his favorite.

Adrian had always loved the night sky. When he was small, he would lay on the grass for hours at a time, just looking at the stars and hoping to see a comet or a meteor. He had nearly fainted when Lucius had taken him night-flying for the first time, and had actually fainted when he'd seen Comet Halley when he was six, forcing Lucius to dig him out of the snow.

So it was only natural, Lucius supposed, that when he'd been allowed to design his room, he had chosen the stars and the galaxy as the theme.

His room was slightly smaller than Draco's, but that was only because he had insisted on using an empty observatory as a bedroom. The huge, domed ceiling was a reflection of the night sky outside, and everything, from the walls to the floor, was a moving representation of different stars and systems. If he wanted to see a specific system, he had to merely speak its name, and it would be projected above his bed so that he could look closely at it. Behind his bed was the only wall which didn't have any solar systems or stars on it, but that wall, from floor to soaring ceiling, was lined with massive shelves, full of books and old, dusty telescopes and other things he'd collected. His first broom-racing trophy (won under a different name for safety reasons) was on that shelf, as was his first broomstick, the first Golden Snitch he ever caught, and his autographed Quidditch World Cup jersey from the year before, signed by all the players who participated in the match, as well as those who simply went to watch. These were his prized possessions. And, on the highest shelf, tucked away in a corner, was a photo he' never seen.

In the photo, Lucius and Narcissa are laughing and tickling two small boys, who roll around on the ground with laughter.

One little boy has almost white hair, and big silver eyes, easily identifiable as Draco at maybe a year old.

The other little boy, though, has hair black as midnight, and almond-shaped green eyes, an angry red scar just visible where his pajama shirt had slid up.

On the shelf, high above where he slept, was one of the few pictures of Harry Potter.

Lucius had thought of all this in a moment and blinked to clear his mind. He removed Adrian's glasses and settled him in the large, black and silver covered bed, snugly tucking him in. He set the glasses on the nightstand and smoothed Adrian's hair off of his face.

The boy sifted and opened his eyes groggily, no doubt still half asleep, if he was even awake at all.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Adrian?"

"Do-d'you… what I mean to say is…"

"What is it?"

"D'you still love me, even though I don't look like you or Mum as much as Draco and Vela do?" Adrian mumbled, but his eyes were trained on his father.

"I love you just as much as I love your brother and sister," Lucius assured him. "I love you more than you could ever begin to imagine, Adrian Aetius Malfoy, and don't you ever forget that."

Adrian yawned. "I won't, Dad." He yawned again. "It's just nice to hear it from you, sometimes.

Lucius chuckled. "I'll try to keep that in mind, Adrian."

"Good," Adrian breathed, eyelids growing heavier by the second.

"Sleep well." He patted his son on the shoulder and stood, walking quietly away.

"Dad?" Adrian said sleepily, resting on his elbows and squinting in Lucius' general direction.

"Yes, Adrian?"

"I love you."

He looked at him, with his perpetually disheveled hair and slightly crooked smile.

Yes, this boy had been Harry James Potter eleven years ago.

But now, in this moment, Lucius knew exactly who this boy was.

"I love you too, son."

He was Adrian Aetius Malfoy, his son from the day Lucius first saw him in that orphanage.

As he closed the door, he sucked in a deep breath. How could this boy- and such a small little boy, really- brighten his day and break his heart in one moment?

How could three sentimental little words which were meant to express boundless loyalty and gratitude and faith cause him such pain? Cause him to feel as though he were truly the scum of the earth?

Why had he ever, _ever _opened that damned book eleven years ago?

***Nefarious pokes head out, glares and sunlight, and suddenly notices angry readers with torches and swords and even a few wands waiting for her outside***

"**Uhmm….."**

***Sees small, adorable, and rather random toddler toddling by and snatches it up, holding it in front of her***

"**You…. You wouldn't hurt a baby, would you?"**


	5. A Deal with the Devil

**A Deal with the Devil**

_Ministry of Magic Building, Somewhere Below London, England, 1992_

James Potter had never been a patient man.

That he even had to wait to get into his own office this morning was frustrating enough, and now, Lucius Malfoy was sitting across from him, idly wasting time with small talk.

James _hated_ small talk.

"… and then, just as the Minister was about to sit on her hat-"

"Malfoy, why are you here?" James said, abruptly cutting him off. "I mean, why are you _really_ here?"

The other man's brow furrowed, an innocently confused expression on his face. "What do you mean, Auror Potter? I was simply in the department, and-"

"Don't give me that," James said sharply. "I know what departments you usually visit in the ministry, and that list sure as hell doesn't include the one that tried very hard to send you to Azkaban. So, I'll ask again.

"What do you want?"

Now, Lucius grinned at him, a calculating look in his steely silver eyes. "I would like to acquire a personal guard for my children. Recent developments have… changed a few circumstances, especially for my youngest."

"Then go talk to Minister Fudge. I'm sure he'll be happy to do a favor for his greatest supporter," James said. "If you don't mind, I have some actual work to do."

"A few years ago, you put a motion before the Minister to create a sub- department in the DMLE, a department which would protect any witch or wizard not of age with a spell that monitors the vitals of these children," Lucius said, admiring his nails absently.

"How did you know that? It was a confidential-"

"Your wife, Lady Lily Potter, also proposed an orphanage for children with magical abilities so that others of their kind can raise them. This would prevent any abuse the children may receive at the hands of less than understanding Muggle guardians," he continued.

"Yes, and Fudge voted both motions down within minutes of their presentation," James said hotly.

"Why didn't you fund the orphanage yourself?" Lucius asked, gray eyes piercing. "You have plenty of money; you don't even need to have a job, really."

"Yes, but without the Ministry involvement, we would have no way of knowing about these Muggleborn children's whereabouts or current state, and no legal way to remove them from their abusive homes!" James said, running a hand through his unruly hair in frustration. "There's no way to get around all the red tape unless we get Ministry approval, Malfoy."

"What if there were a way?"

James looked up slowly.

"What if we could save your precious… Muggleborns?"

"I don't see how that would-"

"Use your prestige, and mine, to your best advantage, Potter!"

James sat silent for a moment before turning his eyes on Lucius, matching the other man's raptor gaze with his own. "What's in it for you, Malfoy? I've known you since we were at school and you never do anything for free. What's the catch?"

"No catch, only a favor. And the guard for my family, of course."

"What's the favor, then?"

Lucius chuckled a bit. "So suspicious of me, Potter."

"Forgive me for not welcoming you with open arms," James snapped sarcastically. "What is the favor?"

"It isn't anything I need now, Potter, so don't worry too much about it. However, you'll know what it is you need to do when the time comes."

James snorted. "Sure, sure Malfoy. Just make sure that a purple hippopotamus in a yellow string bikini brings me a note about it, yeah? That'll clear up any possible confusion."

Lucius smiled thinly and nodded his head. "I'll do that." He stood. "I believe that you have a young Auror by the name of Mickey Challain under your jurisdiction, Potter? I've read his credentials. Top in his classes, personal foreign near guard for the Director of the DMLE?"

"Yes, he's one of our best recruits. What of it?" James said testily.

"I want him guarding my family whenever they are in public, discretely of course."

"Oh, of course," James snarled, standing slowly from his chair and glowering at the smirking aristocrat before him. "D'you want me to gift wrap him for you and deliver him, or will the owl post do?"

"I'm glad we understand each other, Potter. When should I expect him?"

"You shouldn't! You cannot have the Director's personal guard; she'd have my head, not to mention my job!"

"I want Challain, Potter."

"Yeah, and I want a promotion! Doesn't look good for either of us, now does it?"

"It's Challain, or no deal," Lucius said coldly.

"Then no deal! Now get **out **of my bloody office!" James snapped, sitting down and returning to the reports on his desk.

Lucius sneered. "Fine, who are you willing to spare for a year? I would compensate both them and the department, of course-"

Finally having heard enough, James slammed his hands loudly onto his desk. "No one! We can't spare anyone, Malfoy! We get fewer recruits each year, and some of the few we _do_ get don't make it past basic training!"

"What about able veterans and such?" Lucius asked, composed mask starting to slip.

"The only veterans I know who would be able certainly wouldn't be willing, not for you," James sneered. "We both know what you were, what you are, Malfoy. No pardon will change that."

"I don't expect it to. So there is no one? No one who can protect an innocent girl?"

"Well," James said, rubbing his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "There may be one person…" He turned his back to hide his smirk.

"Who? Name him, and your orphanage and sub- department pass in the courts this afternoon," Lucius said desperately. "I want nothing more than to protect my children, Potter. Surely you, of all people, can understand that?"

James spun and glared. "What do you mean by that?"

"Your son is the boy-who-lived, Potter. Even _you_ haven't managed to forget that, have you?" Lucius said innocently, smirking.

James' eyes narrowed. "No, not really."

"The name, Potter?"

"Name… name… name… Ah!" James said, meeting the other man's smirk with a devious one of his own. "And you say that any able veteran will do?"

"Yes, yes, so long as they're qualified," Lucius said dismissively. "Who is it, Moody?"

"Merlin, no," James chuckled. "He'd terrify your kids. No, that's not even close."

"Who then?"

"Sirius Orion Black."

Lucius glared. "No. Give me another name."

"No way in hell, Malfoy. Why don't you have your 'friends' do it? Didn't they recently find Crabbe in Costa Rica, or something?"

"The Bahamas," Lucius said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, well, someplace tropical, in any case-"

"Give me another name!"

"There's the catch, eh? Giving out promises for things you might not like. I'll expect to be made Head of the new department, since it is my proposal you're passing." He grinned and clapped his hands together. "Hey, it looks as though I get my promotion after all, Malfoy. Now, everyone is happy!"

"Not quite." Lucius stood. "Your bill will pass, and you'll be made Head by next weekend."

"Was that all I had to do? Tell you a potential guard's name, Malfoy?" James laughed. "Some favor."

"No, that was not the favor," Lucius whispered, voice cold as ice. "That, Potter, was not even close."

With that, he slammed out of the office.

James stared at the door after the other man left. He had the strange feeling that although his dreams of the past several years were finally becoming reality, he'd gotten the bad end of the bargain.

James Potter felt as though he'd just made a deal with the Devil himself.

**Hello, dear readers! I suppose I should explain my extended absences.**

**In short, I started college, and then I took my first quarter exams. So, I'm sorry I took so long, but school takes priority. Also, I had the highest grade in my English 101 class (so easy it was sad).**

**So, I'm off school for three weeks, and I will try to update regularly.**

**Until next time,**

**TheNefariousMe **


	6. Shopping

**Shopping**

_Diagon Alley, London, England, 1992_

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned, only to be tackled by her good friend Daphne in what the other girl would later call an 'enthusiastic hug'.

"Whoops, sorry! Here, let me help you up," Daphne giggled, pulling Hermione abruptly to her feet and into another hug. "I've missed you! Where have you been? You never Floo, you never write…"

Hermione laughed. "I've been in Asia, and it is so beautiful there! All the cultures and different languages, there's so much to learn!" she said so quickly that she had to catch her breath afterword. "And the food is fantastic! Granted, I'm not the biggest fan of seafood in general, but everything else was great!"

"Slow down, Hermione, you'll hyperventilate!" Daphne laughed. "Where would we be if you fainted two days before the group birthday and we hadn't gotten presents for anyone except each other?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I have to admit, having one group birthday is more convenient than having to buy gifts all year round."

"You can thank Henry's mum and Mrs. Malfoy for that. It was their idea to have it in between the twins' and Henry's birthdays," Daphne said. "So that nobody would feel like their birthday was being stolen by everyone else."

"Twi- oh, right, Draco and Adrian are twins," Hermione said, thumping herself on the forehead. "How could I forget that?"

"Well, they don't exactly look like twins. They look more like cousins, actually. And, they don't act like twins, with the finishing each other's sentences and whatnot," Daphne pointed out.

"I thought only Ron's brothers did that?" Hermione asked.

"I hear that some identical twins do that to confuse people," Daphne suggested.

"Oh, I get it; if other people can't focus on one or the other, they'll never be able to tell the two apart!"

"I never thought of that," Daphne admitted.

Hermione looked up and down the busy Alley. "Oh, bugg- uhm, _drat_, I don't have any robes other than my school ones and I didn't bring those. I stick out like a sore thumb in my Muggle clothes…"

Grinning, Daphne pulled a large box out of her tiny bag. "I thought that might be the case. I got you a set a few days ago; they were having a summer sale at Twilfitt and Tattings."

Hermione grinned appreciatively and opened the box to find a summer set of royal blue robes with a thin, deep bronze-colored trim. Further inspection revealed the robes to be sleeveless, which Hermione greatly appreciated in the heat. The material appeared to be made of something similar to what Henry's invisibility cloak was made from, almost like sewn water.

"Daphne, these are great! They must've cost you-"

Daphne waved her off. "Don't worry about it, count it as either payback or an early Christmas present."

"Payback for what?"

"Last year in general?" Daphne shrugged. "Mostly for what happened to your Mum's kitchen when we had our girl's day out."

"Daph, that was clearly an accident and my mum finds it funny… now."

"Who knew that turkeys could do that, anyways?" Daphne grumbled.

Hermione laughed. She had missed her friends greatly, most especially Daphne. As they were the only girls in the large group, they tended to stick together. The petite girl was quirky, alternately a tomboy and a squealing schoolgirl, and a bit of a show off, but she was probably Hermione's best friend.

"Where can I go to put these on? My Muggle clothes are not getting any better by comparison," Hermione joked.

"Oh, right, you can't very well change on the street, can you? We'll just go into the Leaky Cauldron, they have bathrooms where you can change, I think."

"Great, thanks!"

They went to the pub, and Hermione changed while Daphne remained at the bar.

When Hermione emerged from the bathroom, she found Daphne just as the other girl was paying for two frosty bottles full of a tawny liquid.

"Thanks for the butter beers, Tom. Cheers," Daphne grinned, raising the bottles as she turned away. "Oh, hello, Hermione! I got us some butter bee-"

She yelped as Hermione stormed over and grabbed the drinks. "Hey, one of those is mine!"

Hermione scowled and turned on her heel, marching into the bathroom with Daphne right behind her.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

Hermione glared as she finished dumping the contents of both bottles into a bathroom sink.

"_Beer_? What are you thinking, buying beer?" Hermione yelled. "We're only twelve! Alcohol will destoy our livers and more importantly our minds…"

Daphne began laughing.

Hermione paused in her tirade. "What's so funny? Juvenile alcoholism is no laughing matter, Da-"

Here, Daphne clutched her stomach. "Hermione, butter bee-hehehehehehe! Hem, it doesn't have any alcoh-ahahahahahah! There's no beer in this beer!" she howled.

"Wha-what?" Hermione asked, obviously very confused.

"Haha, I keep forgetting that you're a Muggleborn, sorry. Butter beer is a drink. It's all bubbly and fizzy, and it's always cold. Like what Muggles drink, uh, yoda! Yeah, it's just like yoda, Hermione," Daphne explained.

"I think you mean soda, Daph," Hermione said, barely suppressing a laugh. "Yoda is a character from- oh, never mind, you wouldn't know what I was talking about anyways."

"Oh, soda, then. Well, either way, there's no alcohol in butter beer," Daphne said. Sighing, she glanced over at the sink where Hermione had emptied the bottles. "And, you owe me ten Knuts."

"I'm sorry, Daph, I really didn't know th-"

"It's not a problem. Just pay for the new drinks, and we'll be even, Hermione," Daphne assured her. "Now, don't we have some gifts to buy?"

_Longbottom Estate, Devon, England, _

"Neville! Where are you going?"

Neville sighed, smacking his head softly on the mantle above the fireplace. "I'm going to the Zabini's, Gran, I told you that yesterday," he called.

"Zabini? You mean that woman who marries everything she sees?"

"Yes, Gran, her son Blaise is one of my friends from school? We're going to go to shopping tomorrow, you know, for the group birthday. Anyways, Ron, Henry, Draco, Adrian and I are going to spend the night over at Blaise's, like we talked about, remember?" Neville asked, shifting his duffel bag on his shoulder.

"Yes, now that you mention it, I do remember that. Very well, Neville Francis, do your family and yourself proud in your conduct while you are away," his grandmother said stiffly.

"Yes, Gran," Neville replied dutifully.

"Off you go."

Neville sighed in relief. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, he threw it on the fire, stepped into the flames, and said, "Villa Zabini," before being whisked away to Blaise's 'summer home'.

_Villa Zabini, Outside Verona, Italy_

He tumbled clumsily out of the fireplace, narrowly avoiding landing on his face.

"Oi, Neville's here!" Ron bellowed, inciting a race to the fireplace.

Seeing the faces of nearly all his friends, Neville couldn't help but grin.

"Mate, look at you! You're taller!" Draco said, smiling as he greeted his friend.

"And paler," Ron observed.

"You're one to talk, you ginger," Blaise snickered, mussing Ron's hair.

"Oi! Leave my hair alone, you boob!" Ron said, smacking Blaise's hand away angrily.

"Leave Ron alone, Blaise. We can't all be dark-skinned beauties like yourself," a distinctly feminine voice teased lightly.

Neville looked up from the group and saw a gorgeous girl of about nineteen descending the stairs.

"Hey, Neville, would you mind shutting your mouth? That's my Aunt you're ogling," Blaise said, elbowing Neville sharply in the ribs.

"Oh, er, sorry, mate," Neville stammered.

The girl, Blaise's aunt, laughed. "Oh, leave him alone as well Blaise." Here, she winked slyly at Neville, who blushed a furious Weasley-esqe red. "He's cute, in an adorkable kind of way."

The girl was several inches taller than even the tallest among the boys, with long red-gold hair and playful gray eyes. She was certainly well built, in Neville's inexperienced opinion; muscular and still curvy.

"This is my aunt Rachelina Russo, of the Verona Russo's," Blaise said in an imperious- and very high pitched- voice.

"Oh, shut up, you idiot boy," Rachelina laughed, giving her nephew a shove that set him off-balance. Turning to the others, she smiled. "I'm sorry for my nephew. It's Lina to you boys. And- Blaise, may I have the honor?"

He nodded, rubbing his arm ruefully. "It _is_ your house, Aunt Lina."

She smiled at them and even Draco and Adrian, who had been trained all their lives to resist feminine wiles- mostly of the Veela variety, admittedly- were entranced by the mysterious smile that graced her lips.

"Welcome to Italy."

_Diagon Alley, London, England_

"Who do we have left?" Hermione asked, shifting the many bags in her hands.

"Just Henry and Blaise for me, Ron and Draco for you," Daphne said, peering over the top of the boxes stacked in her arms. "Why do we have to have so many friends, Hermione?"

Hermione laughed and looked over at her petite friend. "Well, all those boys together without us would've died by now, I think."

Daphne flashed her friend a conspiratorial grin. "I suppose you're right, as usual. What if they'd go through the trapdoor without us to watch their backs? They'd have fallen into a trap for sure!"

"Especially poor Neville," Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "He's so clums- oof!"

Hermione was abruptly cut off when she ran into something and lost her balance. Packages strewn everywhere, she waved her arms wildly and grabbed onto the first thing she could- which happened to be Daphne.

Daphne shrieked and toppled to the ground, boxes flying in all directions as she went.

Both girls landed rather painfully on the cobblestone street.

"What did I run into? I didn't even see anything!" Hermione moaned.

"Perhaps because your 'what' is a 'who', and your 'anything' is an 'anyone'."

Hermione and Daphne looked up to see a tiny girl even smaller than Daphne had been last year. She was fair skinned with wild dirty-blond hair and huge light blue eyes that seemed to be staring at a point just behind them. She was surrounded by oddly shaped packages in all sizes. Hermione swore that a few of them even moved a bit.

"Oh, I'm so, _so_ sorry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, coming to her feet and helping the little girl to hers.

"I'm quite wonderful, thank you for asking. It was very polite of you," she girl said dreamily.

"Your elbows are bloody," Daphne observed, dusting herself off.

"I suppose they are," the girl said, seemingly uninterested by this fact. "It's unfortunate that I'm not a Long Tongued Flox Pixie. They have healing properties."

"Really?" asked Hermione. "I've never heard of them before."

"No, probably not," the girl replied.

There was really no good response to that.

"Do you want us to take you to the Apothecary? Some essence of murtlap would fix those little cuts right up," Daphne offered as she started gathering up her packages.

"That would be very generous of you."

After the three girls had collected everything they'd dropped, they made their way to the Apothecary.

"Daphne, I'll pay for the essence of murtlap, since I knocked her down," Hermione offered once they'd found the jar of the paste-like substance in the smelly shop.

Daphne snorted. "Hermione, we don't pay for anything in here. It's one of the ones owned by my parents."

"Wait, your parents own this store?" Hermione asked looking around the gloomy establishment.

"Yeah, cheerful place, isn't it. It's one of a couple hundred, They all look the same, at least to me," Daphne said. "When I get a third of them, I'm going to make them a lot more impressive and a lot less vile smelling."

Daphne took a glob of the paste and spread it thickly on the girl's elbows, and as soon as the cuts were healed, the paste hardened and fell off almost immediately.

"Thank you. My arms feel much better now," the girl said simply. She then set her belongings on the ground and gave Daphne and Hermione each a rather unexpected hug.

"Uh, you're welcome," Daphne said, more than a bit surprised.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you not to hug strangers?" Hermione asked.

"No, only that I shouldn't kiss strangers."

Hermione and Daphne stared at each other incredulously.

"W-who are you?" Hermione spluttered.

The girl looked strangely at her. "I am me, of course. Should I be someone else instead?"

"What is your name?" Daphne clarified.

"Luna Lovegood."

"Oh. Well, that actually explains quite a bit," Daphne muttered.

"Who are you?" Luna asked.

"Daphne Greengrass."

"Hermione Granger."

With that, Luna kissed each of them on the cheek and walked away.

"What was _that_?" Hermione asked, hastily wiping off her face.

"I guess we weren't strangers anymore."

_Vicolo Mistica, Verona, Italy_

"Lina! What do girls like?"

"Anything you think they'd like will be good enough for your friends, I promise," she assured them, ruffling their hair affectionately.

"Lina, everything is in Italian! What's this book called?" Ron asked, holding up a thick red book.

"This is called '_Everything you Ever Wanted to Know About Being a Witch or Wizard, but Felt Too Stupid to Ask'_," Lina translated. "Didn't you say Hermione was a Muggleborn?"

"That's perfect!"

Adrian inquired about a necklace with a light pink stone pendant for Daphne, Blaise got everyone's presents within minutes, and Neville knocked over a perfume display.

It had been an eventful day, and they were about to go back to Lina's when Adrian begged to make stop at the post office.

"It'll be very quick, I swear, I just have to mail something to someone," he said as he darted into the building.

Five minutes later, he reemerged, smiling, and they went back to the villa to swim the afternoon away.

_Unknown Location_

"Sir, this just arrived for you."

"Thank you, Jonathan." With wrinkled, shaking hands, he took the package from his many greats grandson.

He unwrapped it, and something he'd never thought he'd see again rolled gently into his lap, followed by a note written in an elegant, curling script.

"_Dear Mister Flamel,_

_ "I am sorry that my friends and I stole your Stone. We thought that someone was trying to steal it for real, and besides that, we didn't think that it belonged in a school, especially with all that dangerous stuff around. I only kept it this long so you wouldn't get suspicious of the students or my friends and we didn't even use it. Well, I gave my friend some money, but I didn't use it for anything else, I promise._

_ "I hope you aren't terribly upset, sir, because we didn't mean any harm._

_ "A Fiery Friend."_

**No, Luna is not a lesbian. She's just….. friendly.**

**And socially inexperienced.**

**Hahaha, enjoy the update, and Merry Christmas!**

**-TheNefariousMe**


	7. Happy Birthdays

**Happy Birthdays**

_Malfoy Family's Private Beach, French Riviera, France, 1992_

"Lead the musicians to their tents, keep the food at an optimal temperature, and start setting up the fireworks display!"

"Dobby, the tent is falling down on us!"

"Sorry, Master Adrian sir!" Dobby squeaked, snapping his fingers and righting the collapsing tent.

"Zip, put up the hoops!" Draco ordered.

"Yes, Master Draco sir!"

Henry stared open- mouthed at the amount of activity on the sandy shore. There had to be dozens- no, _hundreds_, of House Elves running about in every direction, doing exactly as their Masters ordered. Some were putting up brightly colored canopy tents, others were minding the food and drinks, and still others were assisting Draco and his father in setting up a huge Quidditch pitch.

He'd never seen so many of the funny creatures at once, and he had no idea how the Malfoy's had gotten their hands on so many. Probably called in some favors and even rented a few of them. Henry honestly doubted that this many House Elves worked at Hogwarts, even!

"Hey, Henry, are you going to gawk or help, mate?" Adrian called, shoving Loki playfully to the side as the dog nipped at his master's robes.

Henry flushed slightly and hurried to where his friend was changing the color of the tents. "What d'you need me to do?"

"Well, you need to tell the Elves what sort of cake you want, and then you should go check on the musicians, see if they need anything," Adrian replied, having decided on sky blue and white for the tent's colors. "What do you think?"

"Looks good, mate," Henry assured him before telling the nearest House Elf in an apron that he wanted chocolate cake with a fudge- like frosting. He then went to the musicians' tents, where he met all the members The Weird Sisters, The Banshees, and even his own favorite band, The Curse. They were all very polite, at least to him, and the lead singer of The Curse, Ava DeCada, even gave him three free V.I.P tickets to their next performance, provided that he didn't brag about it to his friends, which of course he promised not to do.

He'd never been out too much because it wasn't safe for him to be in large crowds. However, after much begging, whining, and pleading, his parents had relented for today, so long as he swore to keep his wits about him and stayed well- visible.

He was positively giddy at the thought of the huge party, which wouldn't be formal, as the Malfoy's Christmas party had been last year. Quite the opposite, since the guests were welcome to swim, play Quidditch, listen to live music, eat anything they desired, play a life- sized game of Wizard's Chess, or even take a ride on the roller coaster that his mum was helping some of the elves set up, and the night would end with what promised to be a spectacular fireworks display.

"Henry, mate!"

"Where've you been?"

"Didn't you miss us?"

"Why didn't you come to the Burrow with the rest of them?"

Henry sighed as his hair was ruffled and his back thumped overenthusiastically by Ron's older and very identical twin brothers, Fred and George. "I was staying at my godfather's place that weekend, you know that."

"Ah, yes," Fred (George?) said solemnly.

"The mysterious Mister Lupin," George (Fred?) agreed.

"He isn't _that_ mysterious," Henry argued, rolling his eyes.

"No? Then what are our dear professor's dirty little secrets, Henry?"

"Indeed, Hanky-panky, do tell."

Henry groaned. "Not this Hank business again. My name is _Henry_, dolts."

"We know that."

"And you know that."

"But perhaps we can convince the world at large otherwise!"

"Sending a photo of you with a statement from a source close to you saying that you like to be called Hank should do it!"

"You'll do no such thing!" a new, yet familiar, voice chimed in, sounding stern.

The three boys turned around, two with expressions of disbelief, the other with a wide smile. Despite this, they all shouted the same thing at the same time:

"Professor!"

Minerva McGonagall smiled slightly as she looked down at them. "Hello, Mister and Mister Weasley, Mister Potter."

"What are _you_ doing here?" one of the twins blurted out.

"I am here to wish eight of my students birthday congratulations Mister Weasley, one of them being someone I've known since the day he was born."

Henry blushed furiously at that.

"Although, I am sad to say, I fear that I won't be attending the birthday party of another boy I'd have known just as long as I've known Mister Potter," she said, shaking her head sadly. "I regret that he wasn't entrusted to the right people, and he hasn't been seen in years."

Henry stared astonished at what she was hinting. She'd known about Harry?

The twins, however, looked completely bewildered. "Er, yeah, Professor. That's a right shame, eh Fred?" the one who was apparently George said, nudging his brother.

"Yeah, bloody shame. Some people, I'll tell you…" Fred agreed hesitantly.

"Mister Potter, you may as well change into your party clothes. Your guests will be arriving very soon," McGonagall reminded him.

"Yes, I will, thank you, Professor," Henry stammered.

With a curt nod, she walked away toward Henry's parents.

"What was all that about?"

"Yeah, I thought she'd gone 'round the bend for a moment there, mate."

"She was just making conversation," Henry replied lightly. "You should go help Draco and his dad set up the Quidditch pitch."

Fred and George grinned. "Sure, we're always happy to help a Malfoy in need."

Henry groaned as they ran off toward the half- completed pitch. "What've I done?"

Deciding that, having raised Adrian and Draco, Mister Malfoy could handle the mischievous twins, Henry went with the other boys to the beach house in order to put on their clothes. He couldn't help smiling when Ron proudly showed off his set of brand-new summer robes. He'd apparently been left quite a bit of money by a relative several years ago, and it had only recently been sorted out legally and put into a private account for him. It wasn't a fortune by any means, but Ron could afford new robes and books every year, as well as have some spending money. He told them that his next order of business was to get a new wand, as his was rather old and brittle from many years of use.

After all the boys had changed, they went out to the main room of the house and complimented the girls on their pretty robes when they emerged before all eight of them walked down to the beach, joking and catching up.

"Henry, your aunt and uncle are here," Lily said, the look in her eyes very different from the smile on her face.

Henry sighed. "Mum, why did we have to invite them at all? They're awful, and their kid is really weird!"

"They're family, Henry," she sighed, evidently not liking the situation any better than he did.

"Fine, but can they come with me?" he asked, gesturing toward his friends. "I don't want to be alone anywhere near them."

"Of course," his mother replied. "And they'll only be here for five minutes, as their Portkey will be taking them back before everyone else gets here."

"Fine by me," Henry groused. "C'mon, you lot. And I apologize in advance."

The others looked confused, but the six purebloods among them looked more curious than anything, as most of them had never met any Muggles before.

Henry led them to where a monstrously fat man with a walrus moustache stood, a skinny horse- faced woman to his right and a sneering blonde pig of a boy to his left.

"Are those your mum's relatives?" Adrian asked.

Henry nodded. "Yeah, that's Mum's sister Petunia and her husband Vernon. The porker there is their son, Dudley."

"Guess your mum got all the looks in that family, eh?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose slightly. "What in Merlin's name is he _wearing_?"

Henry bit back a laugh. Dudley was wearing a ridiculous outfit that included an oddly colored tailcoat, a straw hat, and a stick.

"Hello Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and… Dudley," Henry said, pausing so as not to laugh at his cousin's haughtily piggy expression.

"Happy birthday, Harry," the woman said rather nastily.

"No, I'm Henry, Aunt Petunia," he said.

"Oh. Wasn't there another one running around last time?" she asked, seeming eager for a bit of gossip.

"Yeah, there was, but he's-"

"Oi, freak," Dudley interrupted. "Who are they?"

His aunt and uncle wandered off. Whether this was in search of dirt or his parents, Henry wasn't sure. All he knew was that he and his friends had just been left alone with his incredibly idiotic cousin.

Henry looked over his shoulder at his friends. Draco, Ron, and Adrian went red- faced at the word 'freak'.

"My friends, Dursley," Henry said, foregoing any pleasantries.

"They freaks as well, from that mad school you go to?" Dudley laughed nastily, poking his cousin hard in the chest with the stick in his fat hands.

"What if we are?" Adrian said harshly, eyes flashing dangerously as the whites dimmed to a pale, pale grey.

"Then you'd all be freaks," Dudley said confidently. "Now shove off, I don't want to get freak germs all over me."

"Too late for that," Ron said loudly, causing the others to snigger at the blonde ponce.

Face twisted with anger, Dudley smacked Ron in the shins with his stick as hard as he could. "Take that, freak. Learn how to properly speak to your betters!"

Before any of them could stop him, Ron tackled Dudley to the ground, straddling his chest. Dudley may have been big, but Ron had grown up with five older brothers, and was thus far more used to roughhousing with someone even larger than Dudley. Quick as a flash, Ron's wand was in his hand and pointed at Dudley's nose.

"Take that back, pig," he hissed. "You're not the only one who can hurt people with a stick."

"What are you going to do, Red?" Dudley sneered, more than a bit of fear in his eyes. "Hit me with a bit of Agent Orange?"

Finally losing control of his temper and quite possibly forgetting that he had a wand, Ron pulled his fist back and hit the blonde boy square on the nose, eliciting a high pitched squeal of pain and a satisfying crunch.

"Bollocks that hurt!" Ron cursed, shaking his hand out as he stood.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, pushing him aside as she leaned over Dudley's bloody face. "You broke his nose, you idiot!"

"Shite, my aunt and uncle are coming. Make sure they can't see me," Henry said, leaning over his fallen cousin and whispering, "_Episky_!"

With another crunch and another squeal, Dudley's nose was where it was supposed to be, and a quick cleaning charm cleaned off all the blood.

"You are _not_ to tell _anyone_ about this," Henry warned him sternly. "Otherwise, I'll _let_ Ron beat the piss out of you next time!"

Dudley whimpered and nodded vigorously, and Henry pulled him to his feet

"Come, Dudders, it's time to go," Henry's aunt cooed. "Did you have fun with your cousin?"

"No," Dudley said petulantly. "I want to go home!"

"We're leaving now," Vernon said gruffly, gripping an empty bean tin in his hand. "Grab hold."

The other two Dursley's also grasped the tin, and soon disappeared.

"What a tosser," Ron said absently. "His face bruised my hand!"

"You still didn't need to break his nose, Ron," Hermione scolded, ignoring the chuckles of their friends.

"But I wanted to!"

"_It's my party, and I'll fight if I want to_," Henry sang quietly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed at him, being the only other person there to fully appreciate the joke. "Oh, haha, Henry. Very clever."

"I don't get it," Daphne whispered to Adrian, who merely shrugged in confusion.

"You lot!"

The eight of them turned and saw Mrs. Weasley not too far away, hands on her hips. "Your guests are arriving!"

"Right! Sorry, Mum!" Ron called back. "Let's go, before she starts yelling."

They went back to the party, and there were indeed a few dozen people wandering about, and more popping in by the minute.

One burly redhead in particular caught Ron's attention, and he barreled toward him, leaving the others behind to find their own friends and relatives.

"Charlie!" Ron yelled, crashing into his solidly muscled brother with a hug. "You came!"

Charlie laughed and lifted the younger boy off his feet. "You didn't think I'd miss my own brother's birthday party, did you?"

Ron's ears turned pink in embarrassment as Charlie set him back on the ground. "Er, well…"

"Ah, Ronnie, I'd never miss your birthday party!" Charlie assured him earnestly. "That's a promise."

Ron grinned up at him. Bill and Charlie, even though they were both much older than he was, were probably his favorite brothers. They were always ready to go flying with him, or help him with schoolwork, and they always watched out for him. They were also by far the most interesting, as Bill was a curse-breaker who specialized in Egyptian tombs, and Charlie worked with dragons in Romania, evidenced by the many burns , both fresh and old, were laced up and down his heavily muscled arms and torso in an almost artistic manner, pink and deep red swirls and lines etched permanently into his freckled skin.

"Did anything interesting arrive at the sanctuary?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Well, we got a Chinese Fireball, and a few Ukranian Ironbellies. Not near as interesting as that savage Horntail we got a few years back, though," Charlie said, pleased to find that his youngest brother was still fascinated by his dragon stories. "A monster. Leveled an entire Muggle village, but we can't dispose of it, even though its nearly killed everyone in the preserve, because no one wants to take on that responsibility, even with the reward offered."

"Reward? Why would you reward someone for killing a dragon?"

"Not any dragon, Ron. This one is mad. It killed loads of people, and has tried to kill even more- including me- on more than one occasion," Charlie reminded him. "But, since the preserve where I work isn't owned by any one country, one of the countries in holds dragons for has to step up, claim responsibility for the condemned dragon, and transport it to their own country for execution."

Ron nodded. "So, basically, no one wants to let lose a man-eating, fire- breathing beast in their garden?"

"Yep, you've got it," Charlie said, ruffling Ron's hair affectionately. "Now, what do you say we go swimming?"

Ron whooped and ran toward the water with his brother, both removing robes and shirts as they went, causing the rest of their siblings, including Percy, to follow suit. Ginny had to wait while Mrs. Potter transfigured her ancient robes into a fairly modern swimming costume, but as soon as that was done, she was in the water, followed closely by their many Weasley cousins.

~~~~~BbB~~~~~

"Uncle Remmy!" Henry cried, bounding up to his godfather, grinning broadly.

"Hello, Henry," Remus smiled. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks! Come look at the cake, it's all chocolate!" Henry said excitedly, pulling his godfather over to where the eight freshly baked cakes sat and pointing at his. "Chocolate is my favorite flavor!"

"Chocolate is my favorite as well," Remus said, amused by his godson's exuberance. "I got you a gift."

"Can I open it now, or do I have to wait?" he asked eagerly, examining the thin package his godfather produced from his robe pocket.

"You may open it now," Remus said, secretly delighted with how excited the boy was. "Now, I want you to remember that you should be very careful with it. It is part of your Christmas gift as well."

Henry ripped open the wrappings to find a gleaming silver medalion on a braided dragon hide *thong. "Wow!" The pendant had a detailed carving of twin boys with a she- wolf standing protectively over them, fangs bared, as men with spears, shepherd's crooks, and knives attempted to take the children from her.

"This is a representation of the founders of Rome, Remus and Romulus," Lupin explained quietly. "The legend goes that they were suckled by a wolf, and later found by villagers and raised as shepherds, before they left their village and founded Rome."

"That's wicked," Henry breathed, pulling the necklace over his head.

"It is also protection from all manner of beasts, creature and wizard alike," Remus told him. "It would not be easy to replace."

Henry nodded. "I won't lose it, I promise."

Remus smiled and ruffled his hair. "I'm glad you like it."

"I really, really do," Henry said earnestly.

"Good."

~~~~~BbB~~~~~

"Mum, Dad!"

Hermione's parents smiled at her. "Is this what you learn at school every year?" her father asked, looking around at what could only be described as a circus.

Even though they were the only Muggles in attendance, the Grangers seemed entirely unfazed by all the magic around them, more curious about it than anything else.

"Yes, isn't it wonderful? Watch this!" she said excitedly. She screwed her face up in concentration, and turned her mother's handbag into a spider monkey, and then back again.

"That was very impressive, Hermione," her mother said, clearly proud of her daughter.

"And that's not the half of it! Look what else there is!"

~~~~~BbB~~~~~

"Rachelina, how good to see you again!"

"You as well, Narcissa," Lina replied, smiling. "I'm always happy to see you and your family."

"And you are always welcome to visit," Narcissa assured her. "How is your team doing?"

"We're first in the standings, in the running for the Italian regional tournament," Lina said confidently, warming to the topic of her career. "I'm already being scouted by the European team for the Cross- Continental Series next summer. Our Beaters and Keeper have really improved since last season, and we've been running drills every single day since the last season ended."

"That's wonderful! Your family must be very proud of you," Narcissa said sincerely.

Lina shook her head ruefully. "No, not at all. Blaise is, of course, but my parents and sister are none too pleased with the idea. They would rather I be a spoiled heiress, wasting their money than a female playing a sport and making money for herself. It makes me crazy!"

Narcissa nodded sympathetically. "I understand. I myself was the youngest of my family, and they seemed content to keep me locked in a tower."

Lina laughed. "At least you got to marry Lucius."

"Yes, we were arranged, but my family called off the engagement for a month or so prior to the wedding," Narcissa said, chuckling as she looked down at her left hand.

"What? But he's what every parent looks for! Sophisticated, rich, powerful, charming, elegant…" Lina said, gaping.

"He wasn't always," Narcissa said quietly, a faraway look in her eyes and a private smile upon her lips.

Before Lina had any time to think on this, Blaise appeared at her side, grinning broadly. "Aunt Lina, you came!"

Narcissa smiled at the pair before moving to mingle elsewhere.

"Of course I came, you ridiculous boy," she laughed, and she enveloped her nephew in a warm hug. "You act as though you haven't seen me in weeks, Blaise."

"I just miss you when I'm away at school," Blaise said.

"I miss you when you're at school too. How would you like to come to my Villa for Christmas instead of that dreary old place your mum keeps?"

"Really?" he asked. "She'd let me stay with you instead?"

"I'll talk her into it," she assured him, smiling confidently and wondering how much her sister would demand so that she could spend time with her nephew, the boy she'd practically raised, _this_ time.

He smiled up at her, unhidden admiration dancing in his green- grey eyes.

And she knew that whatever the cost, it was worth every Knut to see that look on his face as often as she could.

~~~~~BbB~~~~~

"Hey Cedric!"

The handsome Fifth Year grinned at his young friend. "Hey, Henry. This is quite a party."

Indeed it was. There were quite probably hundreds of witches and wizards wandering about on the private beach, enjoying the warm water, eating, drinking, talking to old friends, or playing Quidditch.

"Yeah, it's a bit out of hand, isn't it? I think the mums invited all of Hogwarts and then some," Henry laughed.

"That looks to be the case," Cedric agreed. "Are you having fun?"

"Loads," Henry said. "Everyone I invited showed up, and they all seem to be having a good time."

"They do. Henry?"

"Yeah, Ced?"

"Did you and the others ever find what you were looking for last year?" Cedric asked curiously.

Henry swiftly glanced around. "Yeah, we did, but it nearly killed us," he whispered.

"So I heard," Cedric whispered back thoughtfully. "Always knew that story they fed us was a load of dung. Even Longbottom wouldn't fall down an entire flight of stairs, and Malfoy? Getting hit by a falling suit of armor? Not bloody likely."

"A troll smashed Draco's legs, there were three of the buggers all in one room," Henry said quietly. "And Neville got hit in the leg by a Knight."

"A Knight?"

"One of the protections was a giant chessboard," Henry said. "The Knight hit Neville, and broke his ankle and a few other bones."

Cedric whistled. "Impressive, mate. So what was the mystery treasure?"

"It was a Philosopher's Stone," Henry said quietly, so as not to attract attention.

Cedric, however, had no such qualms. "What? You stole a Ph-"

Henry hastily shoved a tart into his friend's mouth. "Shh! D'you want to get me expelled?" he hissed.

Cedric shook his head in disbelief as he chewed. "If anyone knew what you lot were capable of-"

"But they won't or we'll all go to jail," Henry reminded him. "Whether we're underage or not, we still stole a rare magical artifact and broke several rules to do it. We killed three trolls for Merlin's sake!"

"Er, actually _four_, by my count," Cedric corrected.

Henry looked at him quizzically. "Four?"

"Yeah, your friend Draco killed another one on Halloween, and his brother rescued the little brunette pixie, what's-her-name," Cedric said, gesturing to where Daphne stood with her younger sisters and parents.

"Right, I'd nearly forgotten about that. We weren't friends then," Henry said.

"Yeah, from what I remember, you hated the lot of them," Cedric said, struggling to keep a straight face at the memory.

Henry shook his head in disbelief. "It's so strange that I didn't even know any of them, or you, this time last year," he said.

"It's always strange realizing how little time has actually gone by, how short life really is," Cedric commented.

Henry nodded in agreement.

"Well, enough of all this seriousness, eh? It is a party, after all. Everyone is supposed to be having fun, right?" Cedric said brightly, grabbing Henry and tossing the much smaller boy over his shoulder, ignoring his loud protests. "How about a game of Quidditch? We can take those professionals any day!"

"Cedric, put me down!" Henry laughed, struggling feebly against his strong friend.

"Alright, in a moment," Cedric said as they neared the Quidditch pitch. As soon as they were at the broom shed, where the Malfoy's kept the many brooms they and the other families had rented for the party guests (each with an anti-theft jinx placed on it so that none could 'become lost'), he dropped Henry unceremoniously onto the floor. "D'you prefer Nimbus or Comet? I'm a fan of the Nimbus, myself, but they drag a bit in the tail at high altitudes, and the Comets don't, even if they're a bit slower…"

Henry sighed and grabbed the nearest broom, which happened to be a Nimbus 2000.

Cedric grinned broadly. "That's the spirit! And good choice, the 2000 is still top of the line, even if there _is_ a newer model." He grabbed a matching broom, and they both walked- or trudged, in Henry's case- to the field.

The players high above them were obviously enjoying themselves greatly, taunting and yelling at one another good naturedly as they cut expertly though the air.

Henry gulped as he looked up at them. "Cedric, I'm not the best player, and I-"

"You don't have to be the best," Cedric said, cutting him off midsentence. "It's _your_ bloody party, mate. No one's going to have a go at you right in front of your dad, the big bad Auror."

Henry nodded as Cedric kicked off, willing himself to do the same.

'_Alright, count of three_,' he thought.'_One… Two… Three_!'

~~~~~BbB~~~~~

The sun was beginning to set, which meant that soon, it would be time for the eight children to blow out their candles and make a wish.

Lucius watched his sons and their friends idly, smiling softly when they turned two of their classmates yellow with pink and lime green spots.

The bands began tuning their instruments, making sure that everything was in proper working order and cuing the guests of honor and their guests to gather around the cakes.

"Malfoy," a voice behind him said silkily.

"Nott, always a pleasure," he greeted the other man, shaking his hand before returning to watching the guests.

"You as well," Nott said. "This was a very interesting party, Lucius."

"Yes, well, it was for the children, not for the adults, Thaddeus," Lucius said, sipping his drink absentmindedly.

"It was a success with them, I'm sure," Nott said smoothly.

Lucius smiled, the barb not lost on him. "But not with you?"

"Well," Nott said, swirling his drink around and causing the ice to _clink_ against the sides of his glass. "I prefer a bit more adult activities at a party thn Quidditch and swimming."

"Well, then you shouldn't have come to a party for children, Thaddeus," Lucius chuckled. "You were setting yourself up for disappointment."

"Yes, I suppose I was," Nott agreed. "Although, I'm glad that the same did not happen to you, my old friend."

"How do you mean?" Lucius asked.

"Well, I just meant that you took a big risk, inviting so many people to your private estate," Nott observed. "And some of them… _less deserving_… of that honor than others. You even have Muggles here."

"Yes, they're the Granger girl's parents," Lucius said. "A pleasant little girl, for a Mudblood, to be sure."

"And Mudbloods as well? Lucius," Nott said sadly, "I thought you had _some_ standards."

"I do, but my sons are young, and they do not," Lucius said, taking another sip of his drink.

"Perhaps that should be fixed."

"Perhaps you should mind your own family affairs, Nott," Lucius said, his voice smooth but the tone sharp.

"Perhaps."

Both men watched as the 97 candles on the cakes were lit.

"I must be going, Lucius," Nott said finally.

"Oh?"

"Yes, a bit of business to attend to, I'm afraid."

"That's a pity. Farewell."

"Farewell. I am very glad that nothing happened today to spoil this happy occasion for you and your family, Lucius," Nott said, finishing his drink slowly. "So many things can go so terribly wrong, when planning such a large affair, with so many guests."

Lucius turned sharply at the implied threat, but Nott was already gone.

He hurried to his sons, who were waiting to blow out their candles until he arrived, and placed a hand proudly on each of their shoulders, standing next to his wife, who held their sleeping daughter close.

He leaned down and whispered in Draco's ear, "Did you see Theodore Nott here today?"

"No, Dad," Draco whispered back, obviously confused. "I didn't even know that he was invited."

"…happy birthday dear children! Happy birthday to y-"

_Boom! Crack! Crack, crack crack! __**BOOM!**_

"Oh, shite," Lucius breathed.

"Dad, what's going on?" Adrian asked.

"Narcissa, get them to the beach house, now!" he ordered. "You have to hurry!"

"Lucius, what is going on?" she asked, clearly terrified.

Her answer was seen moving viciously through the crowd, flinging spells left and right.

Her answer wore a black hooded cloak, and a white skeletal mask she'd hoped only lived in her nightmares now.

"Death Eaters."

**Ha! Betcha didn't see THAT coming, did you? Well, unless you're my brother… or my friend Lara….**

**Okay, so this was the longest chapter I have written to date, and I have been working on it for literally two weeks straight, so please, be nice about any mistakes. I read through it to check, but there were 19 pages, here!**

**Okay, I hope you enjoyed that, and the next chapter will be posted ASAP!**

**Also, a link has been posted on my profile (or will be shortly) which is what I based Henry's medallion off of!**

**-TheNefariousMe**

** *Thong- a thin strip of leather (I looked it up to make sure)**


	8. Catalyst

_**Warning: this chapter includes semi-graphic violence and some character deaths are mentioned.**_

**Catalyst**

_Malfoy Family's Private Beach, French Riviera, France, 1992_

"Go, now!" Lucius roared. "Run!"

Narcissa gathered their children to herself, spun, and Apparated away.

A red and white spell hit where his wife and children had stood only seconds earlier, leaving a scorched crater in the sand and sending bits of table flying in all directions, like fiery bits of shrapnel.

Nearby, he saw the other children yelling and screaming, terrified, as their parents stood in front of them, wielding their wands fearlessly.

"Greengrass, the beach house is safe!" he yelled to the man who stood nearby with his wife, their three young daughters hiding behind them. "Get your girls there now!"

The other man nodded appreciatively and, after hitting one of the attackers square in the mask with a brown spell, herded his family toward the building, not being able to Apparate there as the Malfoys had done.

Rachelina Russo stood, proud and beautiful, beside her young nephew, hexing and cursing with the speed and accuracy of someone twice her age and experience. She ducked a vibrant green curse easily and sent one back in equal measure, evidently finding her mark, judging by the vindictive smile on her face. He hoped that no one else had seen her cast that particular spell, as she would be sent to prison for certain.

"Malfoy, what the hell is this?" James Potter yelled, appearing suddenly at his side.

"This is an attack, Potter!" Lucius yelled, pulling the taller man to the sand as a curse screamed through the air over them and slashing his wand at the nearest masked figure. "_Bombarda Maxima_! I thought that after nearly thirteen years as an Auror, you'd recognize one! _Excelsiosempra_!"

"_Sectumsempra_!" James yelled, hitting another Death Eater in the chest. "Not the time for sarcasm, Malfoy. _Expulso_!"

By now, several Death Eaters had been felled, either killed or grievously injured, but there were still more. Lucius grabbed the other man's robes tightly and Apparated into a fierce fight nearby, hitting one of the Death Eaters with the arrow curse before ducking and rolling away, James Potter following suit.

"We have to get the children out of here," Potter yelled over the noise, jerking his wand up as a scared boy suddenly ran into his line of sight. "We risk killing them on accident every time we cast!"

"_Accio children on the beach_!" Lucius said, and several dozen children, including five of the Weasley siblings and their many cousins, zoomed toward him, landing in a heap on the sand, looking slightly dazed. "All of you, listen to me! Get to the beach house, that building over there, as fast as you can, and whatever you do, don't stop! Not for anything, do you understand?" he yelled.

Each of them nodded vigorously before running headlong up the beach to their sanctuary, Percy Weasley and Cedric Diggory in the rear, watching the younger children's backs.

"I didn't see Hermione!" James yelled. "Her parents are Muggles, they ca-"

"_Mum_!"

They heard the heartbreaking shriek and ran toward it, ducking spells and sending some of their own as they went.

"Hermione!" James yelled, shoving through the panicked throng as they tried desperately to escape in any way they could. "Hermione, sweetheart, where are you?"

"Granger, answer us!" came another voice, familiar and just behind the two men.

Lucius looked back to see Severus Snape following them closely. "_Granger_!"

"Help me, please!" she half- screamed, half- sobbed, voice cutting cleanly through the chaos. "She's bleeding, and I can't, I-I don't know how to-"

They finally found her, crying hysterically over the prone form of her mother.

"Hermione, let go, you're safe," James said softly, gently trying to disentangle the girl from her mother so that they could assess the woman's injuries.

"No! I can't leave her here all alone!" she screamed, fighting him off. "I can't! I-"

"_Granger_! Listen to me!" Severus snapped, voice sharp. "Let go of her _right now_, do you understand?"

She nodded her head dumbly, releasing her mother, and Severus quickly scooped her up and ran her toward the beach house before she could react.

"Oh, hell," James said softly, kneeling over the woman. "I can't… on a Muggle, it won't… oh no, no, please, not right in front of Hermione, no…."

Lucius took a moment to peer over James' shoulder and nearly vomited. Hermione's mother had obviously been hit by the Entrail- Expelling curse, and it was a most unpleasant sight. Her internal organs had been ripped to shreds, and even his untrained eye knew that they were beyond repair. It was honestly a miracle that Doctor Granger was still breathing, but by the amount of blood and the pallor of her skin, she didn't have long to live.

"Potter, there's nothing we can-" he started, but a fierce glare shut him up.

"Malfoy, she might be just a filthy Muggle to you," he hissed coldly, removing his robes and placing them over the woman's injuries. "But she is my son's friend's mother, and I will do everything I can. _Mobilicorpus_!"

"Fine, but you need to get her out of here," Lucius said. "There is a battle going on, you know. _Incendio_!"

Potter nodded grimly and levitated the unconscious woman, sprinting up the beach with her in tow.

Sweating, Lucius looked up and saw a nearby Death Eater leveling their wand at Potter's exposed back.

"_Relashio_!" he yelled, burning the attacker's wand hand severely. "_Depulso_! _Sectumsempra_!"

The Death Eater was thrown through the air, screaming and clutching at the wounds which must have ripped across his chest.

"_Avada_-"

Lucius ducked, rolled to the left and onto his feet, and Apparated ten feet behind where his attacker stood. "_Reducto_," he hissed, watching with grim satisfaction as the Death Eater's legs were blown to bits. "_Stupefy_!"

The cloaked figure went limp, and Lucius ran back into the chaos, grateful that many of the non-combatants had left already and that the off- duty Aurors in attendance had quickly turned the tide of the bloody battle, as the Death Eaters clearly hadn't anticipated Potter inviting nearly the entire DMLE to the party, including the fearsome Auror legends Rufus Scrimgeour, Amelia Bones, and even the long- retired Alastor Moody, all of whom were more than willing to use lethal force.

He Apparated to the tents, where the musicians had abandoned their instruments, having decided to join the fight with wild excitement. A drummer was casting spells rapidly with his drumsticks, which it took Lucius a moment to realize were wands.

"Oi, there's a Muggle back here!" one of the musicians yelled to him. "Had to stun the blighter, kept trying to run into that mob and find his family."

Lucius nodded at the performer and went behind the stage, where Dan Granger was sprawled unceremoniously, clearly unconscious. Lucius grabbed the thing nearest him (a guitar) and muttered, "_Portus_," turning the instrument into a Portkey. As soon as the spell was set, he wrapped the prone man's arms around the guitar and touched the tip of his wand to the enchanted object. "_Activate_."

Doctor Granger vanished, and Lucius returned to the battle at hand.

Only a dozen or so Death Eaters were left now, and they were trying desperately to flee their comrades' fates, and they managed to Apparate away at the last moment.

The fight was over, and they had won, but at a very high cost.

Crippling injuries were widespread on both sides, and even from this vantage point, he could see that many of the figures writhing around on the beach were not dressed in black robes.

~~~~~**(Play 'Rain' by Breaking Benjamin here. Trust me) **~~~~~

The beach was awash with blood and gore. Agonized cries could be heard from the dozens of injured people on the shore, and anyone able hurried to help them, including Lucius and Narcissa.

The first person he encountered was a whimpering girl of about thirteen, whose leg was clearly broken.

"_Ferula_," he said gently, conjuring a splint and bandage around the injured limb. "_Mobilicorpus_."

She hovered slowly to where Healers had begun appearing, horrified by the tragedy before them.

He moved on to the next motionless form and carefully removed the white mask. The man beneath it was elderly and his face was very still. A quick scan showed that he wasn't breathing, and that his heart had stopped several minutes before Lucius had gotten to him.

"Abrams, you old fool," Lucius muttered sadly, closing the man's wide, unseeing brown eyes respectfully before moving to the next victim.

Narcissa retrieved any children she found and healed them as best she could before sending them off to the Healers, trying her damndest not to cry at the sight of some of them, with long cuts or partially missing ears, crying pitifully.

Lily Potter's head was spinning, making her dizzy and sick as she assisted the Healers with some of the more basic injuries, such as broken limbs or staunching blood flow in the case of gaping wounds. She'd never seen anything like this, even though she'd been in her share of battles. None of those had been around innocent children. She fought the urge to vomit, and lost.

Frantic parents, both injured and sound, searched for their children, who had been separated from them sometime during the battle, screaming at the Healers and fighting to get into the beach house and retrieve their young ones.

James gripped his hair, desperately praying that the carnage around him was nothing more than a bad dream. A nightmare, a remnant of the war, anything but reality.

Severus stayed with the children, because even though he didn't necessarily like any of them, he was familiar, and they were too afraid of him for any sort of defiance. His first order was that no one was to look out the windows or doors, no matter what. None of the children made to protest or even speak. They just sat there dumbly, staring at the door and hoping their parents or friends or siblings would be the next to walk through the door.

Hermione Granger had accompanied her unconscious parents to Saint Mungo's, but her mother had been fading even as she was taken away. Hermione clung to her mother's limp, cold hands like a lifeline.

Minerva surveyed the damage around her and felt the tears fall down her face as she headed toward where the children were being kept. Thank God and Merlin that someone had had the sense to put the children somewhere they couldn't see the battlefield.

The Weasley brothers, Bill and Charlie, carried the wounded, running up and down the beach tirelessly with their weak burdens. They recovered everyone they could, indiscriminant in their choices, whether that meant they carried Death Eaters or the dead mattered little to them as they battled through the mob to get to the Healers.

Arthur and Molly Weasley ran past Minerva McGonagall, praying that their children were safe with the others.

Adrian, Draco, and the other Firebrands, sans Hermione, sat silently, most not knowing if their loved ones outside had lived or died, but too afraid to find out for themselves. Marvela sat on Adrian's lap, confused and scared. Her older brother pulled her in close for a hug, trying to reassure her.

Henry knew that his own parents were alive and well, as he'd seen them both only minutes ago. They were out helping the Healers and the Aurors now, but that didn't stop him worrying for his friends and their families. The Weasley children looked pale as death, and the others (besides Daphne, whose parents were sitting not far away) didn't look much better.

Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Percy jumped to their feet when their parents ran through the door, stampeding and embracing their parents tightly. They were told that Bill and Charlie were out helping the Healers, and the large family, still blessedly intact, Apparated away.

Blaise wasn't quite so lucky. His mother had been seriously wounded, and the Healers were unsure of whether she would live. His aunt gathered the lanky boy into her arms as he sobbed brokenheartedly and took him to the hospital.

Daphne left a few moments later with her family, whispering words of comfort to Adrian, Draco, and Neville, who still hadn't heard from nor seen their families.

Neville was told by a saddened Minerva McGonagall that his Uncle Algie had been killed, and his Gran had been hit with an unknown curse and was at Saint Mungo's now. He tearfully asked if he could see her and McGonagall grabbed his hand and took him away.

Cedric was retrieved by his father, who told him through heaving sobs that his mother had lost a leg and a lot of blood. Cedric stared blankly at his father, not seeming to understand what he was saying, or at least unable to decipher what the words meant. Snape ripped a piece of his robes and turned it into a Portkey for the Diggory family to get to Saint Mungo's, as Amos was in no state to try to Apparate anywhere.

Adrian stared at the door, terrified beyond belief the he would never see his family again and envying the children whose parents rushed through the door and hugged them close. Even if they were being told bad news, Adrian wished that someone, anyone, would tell him what had become of his parents.

Draco threw his arm around his brother, pulling him closer as they waited for their parents in their summer house, Marvela whimpering softly in Adrian's skinny arms.

Henry hesitated a moment before settling an arm across the shoulders of his friends, only slightly uncomfortable with the display of solidarity and friendship. Marvela reached out and grabbed his free hand in her tiny soft ones, playing with it as though it were a toy.

When Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy walked through the doors hours later, covered in sand and blood and battle grime, completely exhausted, their sons leapt at them, hugging them tightly around their waists and crying for reasons even they couldn't explain.

Severus gripped his friend's shoulder in silent relief before Apparating to Saint Mungo's to help with the disaster.

Lily and James Potter appeared moments after the Malfoys and received a similar greeting from Henry. James picked his son up lightly, enveloping both him and his wife in a loving embrace as he Apparated them to their home, leaving the beach house abandoned, but for the Aurors who were working the crime scene.

~~~~~BbB~~~~~

The Aurors questioned Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy extensively, but even under Veritaserum, they did not confess any involvement with the attack. Lucius even volunteered his memories of the battle and the days leading up to it, but the Aurors, who had been told by James Potter and several others of the man's heroics during the battle and after it, refused.

~~~~~~BbB~~~~~

Some days later, Head of Aurors Amelia Bones and Director of the DMLE Rufus Scrimgeour appeared before the mourning wizarding public and made the following speech:

"A tragedy has befallen our nation. During a celebration of goodwill and youth, a group of Death Eaters viciously attacked a large number of civilians, killing twenty- seven and injuring countless more in the senseless and unprovoked strike.

"The memorial for those who lost their lives, including a Muggle named Emma Granger, will take place later tonight in the Ministry Atrium.

"But for those responsible for the murder of innocents and the death of many childhoods; we _will_ find you. Your crimes, both against the British citizens and against human decency, with be brought to light, and you will be brought to justice.

"This attack has served as a reminder, a reminder that we as a people have become too lax in our responsibilities and too sedimentary in our actions. We must rights the wrongs in the world, and never accept injustices as the status quo!

"This attack has roused the sleeping dragon, and we as a people will rise up as the mighty, majestic dragon we were always meant to be!

"Let this be a warning to you Death Eaters; your attack is a mere catalyst, and you will not survive the repercussions!"

**Fast update, eh?**

**I actually cried a bit during this one (is that weird?), and the next chapter will also be very, very sad, as it will feature the memorial. I recommended that song because that, along with the song 'Winter' by Joshua Radin, is what I was listening to as I wrote this.**

**Big thanks to The Nefarious Little Brother for his help with this one, and also to Lara, who puts up with me bouncing ideas off of her day and night.**

**Please review, as I really love the feedback!**

**Until next time.**

**-TheNefariousMe**

**PS: the next chapter**


	9. Goodbye

**Goodbye  
**

_Atrium, Ministry of Magic, London, England, 1992  
_

He wasn't quite sure how he'd been elected to read the names of the fallen at the memorial, seeing as he'd never submitted his name in the first place.

It was a rather simple affair, as these things went. Just reading the names and a moment of silence after each.

He hadn't wanted this job. He didn't have the eloquence that some of his superiors commanded with seemingly no effort. All through his years at Hogwarts, he had been teased because of his thick accent, and even though he had worked for years to get rid of it, hints of it were still evident when he spoke.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had a voice, though, that commanded attention. Deep and soothing, it reverberated gently in the ears of those who had come to the memorial.

He took a shaky breath, and read the first name on the list.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

She grabbed his hand halfway through the memorial.

This wasn't exactly significant, as she was also holding Daphne's hand, but he liked to think that she wasn't clinging to Daphne's hand like a lifeline.

He watched as, with each reverently spoken, nearly whispered, name, she began to come undone.

Her mother's name hadn't been spoken yet.

Henry leaned forward from the row just behind them and whispered something to her, gripping her shoulder tightly.

She sobbed quietly and Henry's mum knelt between his and Hermione's seats, forcing them to break their hold on each other.

He scowled slightly, but a quick nudge in the ribs from Charlie reminded him of where he was, and why he was there, something he'd been trying to forget for several hours now.

Three of his friends had lost someone they loved, and they'd all lost a friend or two.

That many people weren't just random losses in a world as small as theirs was.

Twenty seven people had lost their lives, at a birthday party of all places. Their birthday party.

Neville's uncle, Hermione's and Blaise's mothers, a Ravenclaw girl a year ahead of them, two Gryffindors, a boy and a girl, a Hufflepuff boy who had just graduated, a Slytherin girl, two girls who had been about to start Hogwarts, and three little ones, the younger siblings of their classmates, had been lost. None of them had even stood a chance.

It wasn't fair.

His hands and jaw clenched as he swallowed harshly.

Beside him, Charlie gripped his shoulder fiercely. When Ron turned to his brother, ears turning pink and eyes swimming, Charlie just looked at him sadly and pulled his youngest brother roughly into his side, either knowingly or not blocking everyone's view of the hot tears that streamed down the boy's face.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

It…. How could anyone…. But….

She closed her eyes and shuddered, thoughts too discordant to even consider anything for more than a few seconds.

Henry's mum was murmuring words to her, but she couldn't discern what they meant, or what they were meant to mean.

She knew where she was, and why she was there. It was some sort of memorial, or something. Her father couldn't come, because he was in the hospital.

Other than those few facts, she couldn't understand.

Couldn't understand why, or how, or who, even. She had no idea who had done these things, or how and why they had done them. Frankly, she didn't want to.

All she wanted was for it to be her own mother holding her hand and whispering words of comfort to her.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

Amelia Bones was never one to become emotional.

Even at her parents' funerals years before, she had shed only a few private tears, and had put on a brave face for her family, knowing that her younger brothers and elder sister would need that from her, and she had wordlessly complied.

She reflected on this as yet another name was announced, one of a girl that her niece had been rather fond of in Ravenclaw house; someone only a year older than her Susan, who was somewhat of a surrogate daughter to her, had been murdered in cold blood. It was unbelievable. And then there was that poor little Muggleborn girl, whose mother had died right in front of her. Emma Granger had evidently saved her daughter's life several times by the time that horrible curse had hit her.

Amelia closed her eyes for a moment before refocusing once more. Now was not the time to become emotional, even as the next name belonged to a girl who had gotten her Hogwarts letter only days before the attack. She looked to where she knew the girl's family to be sitting and spotted her burly older brother and tall, proud father holding the mother's hands as tightly as they could. The woman's jaw was set firmly, and even from a distance, Amelia could see the tears streaming freely down her face.

She turned away deliberately, so as not to draw attention to herself. Deciding to torture herself just a bit more, she chanced another glance at the Muggleborn girl, Hermione Something-or-Other.

She was sitting with the Weasley and Greengrass families, with the Malfoys, the four remaining Zabini's, and Augusta Longbottom and her grandson sitting in the row ahead of them and the Potter's in the one behind. Her eyes were red- rimmed and wet, and she wore an expression that seemed much too old for her young face.

Those children had lost parents and friends and loved ones while at their own birthday party. Her niece had been at that party, as had the majority of Hogwarts students and their families.

When she had stopped fighting the last Death Eater on the beach, she saw all of the bodies, the small ones especially.

She'd seen more than her share of battle, and the aftermath of battle often haunted her nightmares. There had been children involved in battle before, either as casualties or as participants in some way. But never before had she seen the body count for them so high in one place.

It disturbed her deeply, thinking that someone was willing to do something so vile simply to deliver a message.

They finally, finally got to the last name, the Muggle woman who had been killed so brutally.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

The last name was spoken, and this moment of silence seemed the longest to her. It stretched on forever, or so it seemed.

The Minister of Magic stood and spoke a few quiet words, concluding the ceremony.

It didn't seem finished to her, though. It was too open- ended.

It wasn't finished, not today. It was only the beginning.

She looked away from the now- empty podium and noticed that most of the attendees were gone, only the families of her friends and a few others remaining.

She knew that it was nearly time to leave, and so she stood and woodenly followed the Potters to the Floo. They went through before she did, and when it was her turn to stand in the green fire, she said the first thing she'd said all day.

"Goodbye."

**Yes, I am well aware that I am going to be murdered by all of you. I have accepted this fact and moved on.**

**This was by far the hardest chapter I've ever written, and I'm still not entirely happy with it…**

**If it make you lot feel better, though, I have this and almost all the other stories in this series completely mapped out, and several chapters from the last few installments are already written!**

**Hooray!**

**I will be posting again very soon. And that actually means very soon, not two months from now.**

**Ha. **

**-TheNefariousMe**

**PS: This was the first chapter I've ever written with almost no dialogue. Good? Bad? Meh?**


	10. Best Served Cold

**Best Served Cold**

_Study, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England, 1992_

"You're sure this is necessary, Lucius? Our family was already attacked once. Why risk going into public, where our children won't have the protection of our wards?"  
"Our wards didn't protect us before, Narcissa. Potter, our friends, and I did. They will all be present in Diagon Alley. I see no reason to deprive our sons of one of the few times they are allowed there."  
"No reason? No reason? What about the deaths of those twenty-seven who died on our property? What about the fact that the perpetrators haven't been found or identified? Have you lost your-"  
"Do not question me on this, Narcissa," he hissed. "I will listen to you; have listened to you, in everything but this. This is necessary. If we do not continue on with our business, we will appear weak, vulnerable, more so than we already do. I will do what is best for this family, as I always have."  
"By putting your sons in danger?"  
"I am keeping them from danger!" he yelled.  
She gasped slightly. In all the years they had been married, and all the years before that when they were friends, he had never yelled at her, not once.  
"I know who has done this, Narcissa," he said, voice much softer than it was before, albeit several degrees colder. "And I will make them suffer the consequences of their actions. They will know what they have done, and they will answer for it."  
"Why do you not simply turn them over to the Aurors?"  
"There is no evidence, and no motive that anyone would dare mention. More than that, they command respect, and if I were to report them, it would again make our family appear weak. No, they will not answer to the courts for their crimes and become heroes and martyrs for their cause.  
"They will answer to me."

_Swimming Pond, Malfoy Manor_

"Woohoo!"  
Draco held his arms in front of his face, which unfortunately did nothing to protect it from being splashed.  
"Adrian, must you do that?"  
His brother shook the water from his shaggy hair- getting yet more water in Draco's eyes- and smiled innocently at him. "Do what?"  
"You're incorrigible, aren't you." It wasn't a question.  
"Yes," Adrian said with a mischievous grin, "I have been told that from time to time."  
Draco groaned and closed his eyes. "Why, why was I, a good, law-abiding citizen cursed with an evil twin?"  
"You're just lucky, I guess."  
"Prat."  
"It's part of my charm."  
"So, d'you think that Dad will win, and we'll get to go to Diagon Alley?" Adrian asked.  
"I hope so, I'm sick of being stuck here. We haven't been out of the Manor since the memorial last month," Draco said. "If we don't get out of here soon, I'm going to go mad."  
They were quiet for a few minutes.  
"Have you heard anything from Hermione?"  
"Not a word. She's still staying with Henry and his mum and dad, last I heard. Her dad didn't handle what happened to her mum very well. Still in a Muggle hospital, as far as I know," Adrian said. He ducked his head underwater and snorted the water out of his nose when he resurfaced. "Poor bloke. Thought he was going to a party and instead-"  
"He got a massacre," Draco said softly.

_Diagon Alley, London, England, 1992_

"We're here for the day," Lucius said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Try to enjoy yourselves."  
"And, what about everyone else? Our friends?" Adrian asked quietly, his face a feigned mask of amused indifference. "Will they be joining us, Dad?"  
"The Potters, the Greengrass family and Blaise and Rachelina will be. The Weasleys and Longbottoms will not," Lucius replied. "Ready?"  
They nodded and he steered them out of the Leaky Cauldron and into the busy alley.  
~~~~~BbB~~~~~  
"_Why is everyone staring, Dad_?"  
Henry remembered asking that some eight years ago, when he had first gone to the alley with his father. He'd felt so grown up, and then all the people with their unblinking, expectant stares had frightened him terribly.  
"_Because they've nothing better to do, I suppose. Pity, isn't it, that they stare at small children rather than go about their own bloody business_?"  
He'd said that very loudly, as though daring them to contradict him, and indeed, many who had been watching turned sheepish and blushed and hurriedly began to make themselves look busy.  
But the memory had stuck, nonetheless.  
Today was very similar to that first day; except for today, the people who stared looked sad, or angry in some cases, rather than expectant and awestruck. Henry decided that he preferred the angry stares to the sad ones. He'd seen enough sadness to last him a lifetime.  
Hermione was still so… He didn't even know what. She never slept, rarely ate, and, perhaps most frightening of all, she hadn't so much as looked at a book since the memorial.  
She'd been made to accompany them today. She hadn't resisted, exactly, but she certainly wasn't enthusiastic, either.  
She wasn't really anything, anymore.  
Adrian and Draco rounded the corner, their impossibly calm father just behind them.  
Mister Malfoy greeted Henry's father with a slight smirk, and inquired about his work. His father returned the almost-smile and said that he had just been promoted to Department Head of a new division of the DMLE. Although Henry had heard nothing of this and was surprised and confused, neither man seemed to think that this was any sort of news at all.  
'_Odd_,' he thought. '_Very odd indeed_.'  
"I trust that your new position was well-earned, Lord Potter. Your wife and son must be very proud," Lucius Malfoy drawled.  
"Yes, I believe they are. And it was well-earned, if I'm any judge of such things. Then again, I could be biased," James joked lightly, chuckling with Mr. Malfoy.  
He cast a sidelong glance at his mother, and she seemed just as dumbstruck as he, which reassured him slightly. After all, his father and Lucius Malfoy hated each other unrepentantly, or so they both said.  
"What, nothing to say to your best mates, Hank?"  
He grinned and rolled his eyes, swatting Adrian lightly upside his head. "That's Henry, the boy-who-lived, Scion of House Potter to you, knave."  
Adrian bowed low. "My apologies, your royal big-headedness. I did not mean to offend your fragile ego."  
He laughed and clapped his friend on the arm. "Good to see you again, mate. It just wasn't the same this summer, without you and the others to blame all the trouble on."  
"Benefit of having siblings; there is always someone to blame. Even if that someone is only three," Adrian said knowingly.  
"That's horrible! You wouldn't really get your baby sister in trouble!" Henry said.  
Adrian shrugged and smirked lazily. "I like to keep my options open."  
Henry rolled his eyes and shook his head wearily at his friend. "You're incorrigible."  
"Y'know, I get that a lot." He suddenly dropped his smile and peered around Henry to get a better look at his other friend. "Hullo, Hermione." He'd said it quietly, but by the way she jumped, he had still frightened her rather badly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, 'Mione."

She started at him blankly. It was… unnerving.  
"And how're you, Drake?" Henry asked, quickly changing the subject.  
"I'm well, or would be if I didn't have such an oaf for a brother. You wouldn't happen to want him, would you? I've got siblings to spare," Draco said, shooting a glare at his brother. When Hermione looked away, he jerked his head at her and mouthed, "How is she?"  
"I dunno," Henry mouthed back. "I really don't."  
"The idiot tricked me into eating gillyweed! I was stuck in the bath for over an hour!" Draco said loudly, picking up the story where it had left off as Hermione glanced their way.  
Adrian quickly plastered a fake grin on his face. "Good, eh? To be fair, he did deserve it. He put purple dye in my shampoo, and I had to scrub for days to get it all out."  
Henry laughed, almost genuinely. He had missed his friends.  
~~~~~BbB~~~~~  
She hated them.  
She hated them all.  
She hated that they laughed and joked and played pranks, and all the while, her mother was dead, buried beneath the ground and unable to enjoy what would have been a beautiful day, were the circumstances different.  
She hated that they came here with their families, flaunting them for all the world to see.  
What she hated most, though, was that she hated them, or tried to. They were her friends, and she wanted to hate them.  
Draco and Adrian glanced worriedly at her when they thought she wasn't looking. When they met up with the Greengrasses, Daphne linked her arm through Hermione's and kept her moving at the same pace as the others, and she put her other arm through Blaise's when he and his aunt joined them nearly an hour after that. She didn't try to cheer them up, or get them to talk. She was just there. Blaise eventually broke away and joined the other boys as they strutted around the alley, joking and shoving as they went.  
She knew that they were all terribly worried about her. That Draco and Adrian were being rambunctious for her benefit rather than to have fun. They were almost convincing, almost. Their smiles were a bit too tight and their jokes a few too few. They were anxious, likely something to do with her. They were wary of strangers who came too close or moved too quickly.

She knew that they would like nothing better than for her to say something, or even smile a little. But she just couldn't do it. To Hermione, it seemed so very wrong to enjoy herself when so many others never got the chance to see today, in all its end of summer glory.  
The Potters had been very kind to her. They never pushed her, or asked too many questions at once, or asked if she was 'alright'. They fed her and clothed her and supplied her with whatever she wanted, except for what she wanted the most.  
It wasn't their fault, or hers, or Draco or Adrian's. It was no one's fault except for his.  
The man in the white mask, with the dark eyes that she'd never forget.  
Her insides turned cold.  
She didn't know who he was. She hadn't seen his face, really. She had no way of tracking him down, at present.  
But one day, she would find him.  
One day, when she was stronger, she would see his face.  
And she vowed that her own face would be the last thing he ever saw.

~~~~~BbB~~~~~  
"Dad, can we please, please go look at the brooms now?"  
Lucius looked down at his youngest son, amused by the desperate longing in his voice. "After we get your books, yes, you may go look at the brooms."  
Adrian whooped and dashed into the bookstore, shoving past Draco and Henry as he went. The other children followed eagerly after him, some laughing, others jokingly swearing revenge, and one who did nothing at all.  
Lucius strolled into the store at a leisurely pace, continuing his conversation with James Potter and Alec Greengrass as he went.  
"Theodore! What are you doing in the Muggle section?"  
"I-I was just looking at the books, Father."  
"How can you say such a thing about this trash? Muggles are vile, uncivilized animals, and I will not allow you to read their nonsense. What are you, some sort of Muggle-lover?"  
Lucius smiled grimly. He knew that voice.  
"Of course not! I was merely amused that these filthy Muggles think themselves intelligent enough to write at all, let alone compile 'epics' worthy of being read by purebloods."  
Thaddeus Nott snorted at his son. "True enough, Theodore. Here, this is enough to pay for your schoolbooks and the books I selected. I will be waiting at the Leaky Cauldron. All of this wandering you seem to enjoy bores me, Theodore. Find me when you are finished, understood?"  
"Yes, Father."  
"Good lad."  
Nott appeared from behind a nearby row of shelves, and when he saw Lucius and his companions, he looked very pleased with himself.  
"Good day to you, Lords Potter and Malfoy. And to you as well, Greengrass. I trust you all are well?"  
"Very well indeed, Nott," James said.  
"Yes, thank you, and yourself?" was Alec's reply.  
"I'm doing rather well. My youngest boy, Theodore, keeps dawdling at every opportunity, so I find myself in need of drink and conversation. Care to join me at the Leaky Cauldron, chaps? How did you say you were, Lucius? Still cleaning up after what happened last month in France, are you?" Nott gave him a twisted, knowing smile, and in that instant, his suspicions were confirmed  
"I am about to have a fantastic day, once I finish the final arrangements for something. If you'll excuse me, Nott?" Lucius said smoothly, a slow, easy smile spreading across his face.  
"Yes, of course, Lucius. Potter, how is the DMLE treating you these days?"  
Lucius smiled again and went deeper into the shop. He nodded at his sons and their friends who waved enthusiastically at him, and continued perusing the aisles until he stumbled- literally- across Theodore Nott, who was covertly sprawled across a rarely-used walkway, nose buried in a distinctly Muggle-looking book.  
He caught his balance on the shelf and tried not to laugh at the embarrassed look on the boy's face.  
"Mister Malfo- er, Lord Malfoy, I am so sorry! That was my fault entirely, I should've been sitting up straight and my legs shouldn't have been blocking the aisle."  
"That's quite alright. You're Thaddeus' youngest, right? Theodore, I think."  
"Yes sir, that's me."  
Lucius nodded toward the book in the boy's hands. "What's that you're reading? Anything interesting?"  
"Oh, it's a book my father selected, about the properties of blood as it applies to potions and wards," he lied swiftly, keeping his hand over the title.  
Lucius chuckled. "Sure it is. I used that same trick with my father when I was just a bit older than you, you know. What book is it, really?"  
'_Granted, I was hiding a different sort of book_,' he thought, '_but the principle is the same_.'  
Nott looked up and down the aisle and quickly showed him the cover of the book. It featured four children in crowns, and a rather ferocious lion roaring into the sky above them.  
"It's about a place where these children go accidentally and become royalty by defeating evil," the boy explained.  
Lucius nodded. "Is it a good story?"  
"It seems to be, and there are loads of different stories about the same place."  
"But I suppose Thaddeus thinks otherwise?" Lucius guessed, silently casting a strong truth telling charm on the boy and kneeling so that they were at eye level.  
"No, he doesn't like them at all. And he especially doesn't like that I like them. He positively hates that I want to be a writer when I'm older," Theodore said sadly.  
"A writer, eh?"  
"Not a journalist, but a real writer. Someone who invents people and places and things so that other people can enjoy them. But whenever he finds any of my writing, he burns it right in front of me."  
"When I was a boy, I enjoyed drawing," Lucius said. Theodore Nott stared at him curiously. "My father hated it, said that it was unbecoming of a Malfoy scion to 'muck about with charcoals and paper all day'. But, I invented a way that I could hide my drawings from him in plain sight."  
"How did you do it?"  
"I used this."  
Lucius pulled from his pocket a worn, black leather journal, pages slightly yellowed with age and some creased with use, but every page was blank.  
"What is it?" Theodore asked, transfixed by the solution to his problem.  
"This, young Nott, is a Riddle Diary. Something very secret of mine and my family's. It won't show anything that you yourself did not put down, but it will hide anything you put to paper until you need it again. The Diary is unique, though, because it will critique your work, respond to your troubles, and be a friend to you when you need one most."  
"Will you show me how to make one, sir?" Theodore asked.  
"No. This is one I've never used. I have many of them, and you may have this one to keep," Lucius said, handing the book to the boy.  
"Truly? Sir, thank you. If there is any way I can repay-"  
"No need, but as I said, these Diaries are a secret. Tell no one about this one, alright?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"Good lad." Lucius stood and allowed the boy to get to his feet. He began to turn away, but stopped short. "Oh, and, Theodore?"  
"Yes, sir?"  
"_Obliviate_."

**I am sorry that the formatting is all screwed up. I tried every way I knew how to fix it, but it always went all jenky in the end.**

**That being said, please don't kill me...**


	11. How Hard Can it Be?

**How Hard Can it Be?**

_Villa Zabini, Outside Verona, Italy, 1992_

She watched him carefully, as she always had.

He was sad, she knew that. He was something else as well, guilty, perhaps. After all, he hadn't tried to protect his mother when the Death Eaters had arrived; he'd tried to protect _her_.

While not particularly grief- stricken, Rachelina did regret that her sister had died. Maria had been a self- serving, manipulative woman, and a poor excuse for a mother, to be sure, but she was still Lina's older sister. So yes, she did miss her elder sister in her own way, even if it lacked much of the sad sentimentality usually associated with a sibling's death.

And, according to the will, Blaise was to be left in her care. Her parents had protested furiously, claiming that she was too young and would be an unfit guardian. However, the will was iron-clad, and she had also been left her sister's manor house in England, so she could stay closer to her nephew while he was attending school.

She had frowned slightly at that. Her work was in Verona, and she was only months away from the Italian Regional Tournament. If her team won, it was very likely that she would be recruited by both the European continental team and the Italian national squad. She couldn't live in the UK full time, but she had to be able to keep an eye on him.

And even ignoring that, she was only seven years older than her charge, something that her parents had repeated at least a dozen times in both English and Italian. She had been approved to be his guardian until he came of age, as the will dictated it and she was already very close to the boy in question. But she had her own doubts; her relationship with Blaise was akin to that of cousins, or friends, not at all like a parent and child, or even really an adult and child. She'd never punished or scolded him before, and had never needed to discipline him. In fact, she had covered for him many times when he would have surely gotten into trouble otherwise. She didn't want to lose that friendship with her nephew.

She wasn't sure she could do this.

"Aunt Lina?"

She looked up, startled from her thoughts. "Yes, Blaise?"

"Did I frighten you? I'm sorry," he said.

"No, no, it was nothing. What did you need?"

"Nothing, sorry to have bothered you, Aunt Lina." He turned and began to walk away.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, catching his arm and turning him back toward her.

He shrugged and ducked his head. "Nothing's wrong, Aunt Lina."

She cupped his chin and tilted his head gently up so that he was looking her in the eye. "Blaise."

"I miss her," he said quietly. "I do, but… I don't miss her the way Hermione misses her mum. I'm sad, but I'm not as sad as I should be. I'll miss some things, sure, but I didn't…" He started to cry. "I don't think I loved her as much as I should've, Aunt Lina! That's why she was always away, because I didn't love her and-"

"Blaise, that's not tru-"

"No!" he yelled, jerking away from her. "It's my fault! I should've tried to find her, tried to protect _her_ instead of you! You could defend yourself, but she- she was already drunk, Aunt Lina, and I- I did _nothing_. I knew what those men were there for, what they were, and I never thought they'd attack her, a fellow Pureblood. "

"Blaise-"

"Why? _Why_ did they do it? She wasn't doing anything wrong, she was just at her son's birthday party," he said, letting tears roll down his face un-wiped. "She didn't deserve it."

"No one ever does, sweet boy." She gathered Blaise into her arms and dried his eyes. "No one _ever_ deserves that fate, except for those who are willing to bring it upon others."

'_He's been thinking these things for almost a month, and not said a word_!' she thought

"How do we know who deserves it?"

"That's the hardest part, Blaise.

"We rarely ever do."

_Russo House, Shropshire, England_

"Home sweet home," Blaise said dully, looking around the darkened manor gloomily.

"We couldn't stay in Italy forever, Blaise," Lina said, handing her bag to an elf and stretching.

"You usually do," he said petulantly. "Merlin, I hate this house. I miss Italy already…"

His mother had felt quite the opposite. Maria had hated the villa in Italy, and, even though it was technically hers (having belonged to her first husband, Blaise's father), it was always referred to as Lina's, since she had lived there full time since she was 15 (her parents had quietly and unceremoniously kicked her out when she had refused to any sort of arranged marriage). Her sister had finally just given Lina the villa in Verona in exchange for the Russo House (which was where Lina was supposed to be living) when Lina was deemed old enough to arrange such a trade. Lina had been ecstatic.

Lina silently agreed with her nephew. The centuries- old Tudor mansion was situated just outside of Shrewsbury, and while not exactly in disrepair, the house lacked anything even remotely inviting. The walls were covered in dark, almost black, wood from floor to ceiling, and there were rather snobby portraits of their illustrious ancestors hanging every few feet, looking haughtily down at the house's residents and sneering at them occasionally. The floorboards creaked obnoxiously whenever she took a step; the furniture looked like it belonged in a museum and wasn't meant to be used. The thick draperies covered the windows, and the only light came from dim oil lamps.

This was not a place she had ever imagined living in. Her villa was bright and airy and lived in; there were books that weren't on shelves and her practice gear was a permanent fixture by the front door, as was her broom. There were often outer robes and coats draped over the back of a chair in her sitting room, and, though she was jokingly forbidden by her family and elves to ever enter the kitchen after what was only referred to as "The Sausage Incident", there were always heavenly aromas emanating from there; spicy peppers, sweet basil, and potent garlic were staple ingredients and smells in her home.

This house didn't smell like food, and it certainly wasn't home.

She would be able to stay here with Blaise for the three weeks until he returned to Hogwarts, and then she would divide her time between Italy and here. But just because she wasn't going to live here all the time didn't mean that she was willing to accept its appearance.

"We'll make it better," she decided. "It can't be all that hard to make this house presentable, especially if the elves here help out."

"Really?" Blaise asked dubiously. "You want to remodel the entire house?"

"Why not? I don't have practice until after you go back to school, and I'll be bored until I get back to Italy," she said, already warming to this new project. "Besides…"

'_Oh, please don't say it_,' he thought. '_Famous last words_…'

"How hard can it be?"

~~~~~BbB~~~~~

"We… need help," she panted. "I don't think… walls are meant… to be more hole… than plaster."

"I think that the floor… is unstable… all the way around us."

"Should we… call an elf?"

"And maybe an architect…"

"How did we even do this?" she wondered, sounding almost awestruck.

"There was the cutting hex…"

"And the blasting hex."

"_Hexes_, Aunt Lina. As in multiple. As in many."

"Right, right… And what happened to the floors?" she asked.

"I think we somehow vanished the support beams by accident."

"Ah. How, exactly?"

"When we were avoiding the falling bits of roof, you shot off a spell and it ricocheted and hit the floor, and then my wand fell under me when I tripped and I swore and it did something," he told her. "And then, that thing with the staircase…"

"So, it's best that we don't move?"

"Yes, I think so."

"This has been… just… awful."

And they began to laugh. They laughed until they cried and their sides ached.

"We've completely and utterly _destroyed _this place, and it's only been three days."

She watched him laugh himself silly again, and was suddenly very glad that she hadn't given in to her brief desire to relinquish Blaise's custody to her parents. They wouldn't have made him laugh like this.

She decided that, even though she didn't have a clue what she was doing when it came to raising him, she'd be damned if she didn't give it her all.

'_After all_,' she thought, smiling broadly at Blaise as he laughed. '_How hard can it be_?'

"Haha- Uh, Aunt Lina?"

"Yes?"

"Do you smell… smoke?"

**Hello! These fast updates are meant to shamelessly bribe you into not hating me for that wait….**

**Is it working?**

**Enjoy!**

**-Nefarious**


	12. His Father's Son

**His Father's Son**

_'s, London, England, 1992_

She'd rarely seen the boy so nervous. Even when she'd watched him be thrown out a window, a sight which had damn- near stopped her heart, he'd been calm, and had even laughed when he'd begun to bounce.

But today was no ordinary day, and they both knew it. Today was the first day he'd been allowed to see his parents since Christmas. Neville was hopping from foot to foot excitedly, eager to tell his parents about his last few months at school, as well as his plans for the upcoming year.

He didn't delude himself. He knew that, though they could hear him, they didn't understand who he was or what he was talking about.

But they always smiled at him, and looked as though they were trying to concentrate, and at the end of every visit, his mum would give him a candy wrapper.

The odd thing was, all of the wrappers she gave him were candies which he himself enjoyed.

Nothing thrilled him more than getting a new wrapper from her, especially if it was unfamiliar. It seemed that they had the same taste in sweets, since whenever he was finally able to track down the candy that went into the mystery wrapper, he enjoyed it immensely.

Neville was secretly very pleased by this.

In a world gone mad, it was very important to enjoy the little things.

Or, at least, that's what Ron had said as they were rigging the prank on Snape last winter.

Neville agreed with this sentiment wholeheartedly, and had allowed himself to enjoy many little things since then.

Many of these many little things were pranks.

But today, he was going to tell them about being sixth in his year (and first in his House), and about the new program that Henry's dad was heading in the DMLE, and about how he'd grown two whole inches, and about the plant that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had bought for him, and the book from the Potters, and about everything else except for the disastrous party. Even though they didn't understand, he didn't want to burden them with it, or make them feel guilty for not going or something.

Which was ridiculous, since they had no idea who he was in the first place.

But still.

He straightened his robes for what must have been the twenty- billionth time, and sighed. They'd been here for nearly an hour, and he still hadn't seen his mum or dad. Gran was beginning to grow impatient as well, though, as she was not a twelve- year old boy, she hid it a bit better than he did.

"Neville, settle down. Your fidgeting is making me tired," Gran chided lightly, and he scowled impudently, knowing that the mild rebuke was merely her way of showing affection and empathy. She pulled him down into the seat beside hers.

"Yes, Gran," he said, and sat on his hands. He grinned over at her innocently, though there was an impish twinkle in his eye. "Better?"

"Much," she sniffed, smiling a very small smile.

"Why can't we go in yet?"

"Because the Healer hasn't come over to let us in, Neville."

"But we've been sitting here, for the entire world to see! For _ages_!" he whined. "I hate waiting, Gran."

"Yet you'll wait three years for a silly plant to grow a single flower," she said lightly.

"But that's different! That blossom will be worth thousands of galleons when it finally blooms. Red Moon Roses are the rarest in the world, and their blossoms are dead useful in potions," he argued.

She rolled her eyes at him, smiling slightly. "Yes, yes, you've told me all this before, Neville."

"But you always say-"

"You're just like Frank when you get worked up about something," she said, smiling sadly at him. "Did you know that? Even though you look so much like Alice, you have his spirit, as well as his ears."

"Really?" Neville asked. He discretely felt his ears.

"Oh my, yes. Frank was never a hot- head, per say, but he wouldn't take anything from anyone, and that was the end of it. He never allowed anyone to be a bully, or to belittle someone else. Nothing got your father more furious than injustice, and when he was furious," she shook her head, eyes seeing someplace that was likely far away, "When he was furious, you'd better watch out. For someone so even- tempered and good natured as your father, Neville, his bite was most certainly worse than his bark, and his bark was enough to send most packing. But he was also kind, and brave, and loyal to the last. The best kind of man anyone could ever hope to meet. You're so much like him, it frightens me sometimes."

Neville stared at her in wonder. "You think I'm like him, Gran?"

She looked at him, with his round face and big brown eyes and slightly- too- long hair, and smiled. "Oh, no, Neville. I know you are. I'm very proud of the young man you're becoming."

He sat up a bit straighter, and his wide, proud smile was something she hoped she'd never forget.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

"Mr. and Lady Longbottom, you may come in now," the mediwitch said kindly.

Neville jumped out of his chair and started for the door, but then he stopped, turned, and offered his grandmother his arm.

She smiled at him and linked her arm through his, and they started toward the door, which the elderly matron held open for them.

"What a little gentleman," the witch said, smiling at the two.

Neville smiled at her over his shoulder, and Gran merely smiled to herself.

Neville led her through the halls they'd traversed so many times before, weaving past various Healers and mediwithches and mediwizards making their rounds, and avoiding some areas, where they knew that the more dangerous patients stayed. Finally, they arrived at the correct room.

It looked very similar to every other room, except that the walls of this one was plastered with pictures Neville had drawn, and notes and letters he'd written to them, and pages from his favorite storybooks, and small plants he'd brought for them, and all manner of other knick knacks and clutter one often associated with the parents of young children.

He smiled at them, and they smiled back, albeit a bit blankly.

"Hullo Mum, Dad. How are you today? Did you get over that cold from a few months back, Dad?" he asked them.

His dad seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then his face was blank again.

"Would you like to hear about my last few months at Hogwarts?" he asked eagerly. He'd learned that if he sounded excited, they, too, would be excited, even if they didn't understand.

That was enough for him, though.

The smiled at him again, and he took this as a "yes".

"Well, I got into a fight with a knight! You should've seen him, Dad, he was even taller than you! But before that, there was…"

She listened to him telling his parents all about his and his friends' adventures, and she couldn't help but smile. The shy, bumbling, scared child she'd sent to Hogwarts last year was long gone. Here in his place was a confident, happy, friendly boy, whose main goal seemed to be to cause mischief for absolutely everyone.

She missed the other boy, sometimes, but when she saw this one laugh and joke and stand tall, she found that she liked this new boy quite a bit as well.

After he'd told them every story he could remember (one or two of which he'd told them twice), she asked him to go and get a package that Mr. Weasley was holding for her at the Ministry. He'd nodded reluctantly and hugged his parents goodbye, promising to visit again at Christmas.

She saw Alice hand him a candy wrapper, and she saw him shove it into his robe pocket, but decided not to make mention of it. She told him that she'd meet him back at Longbottom Manor, and squeezed his shoulder affectionately as he left.

And then she was alone, with her son and daughter- in- law looking at her curiously.

"He's gotten tall, hasn't he?" she said softly, knowing that they wouldn't answer. "He'll be as tall as you, Frank, if not taller, someday. And Alice, he has your beautiful eyes. I can't deny him anything when he turns those big, sad eyes on me, and he knows it. But he's so much like you, Frank, he almost never asks for anything.

"And, oh, he's such a good boy. So much like you were at that age, Frank, full of energy and curiosity and trouble. I swear to Merlin, he has so much mischief brewing up inside him that one day it will simply spill out of his ears." She chuckled. "But he's kind, and loyal, and brave, just like the both of you. Especially you, Frank. Even though he looks just like his mother, no one can deny that he is his father's son.

"You'd both be so proud of him. He's near the top of his class, and he has a lot of friends, and he loves plants and Herbology is his favorite subject, Alice. He certainly took after you, there. Poor Frank can't tell roses from a rutabaga , never could. He has this one called a Red Moon Rose, or something like that, and he tends it so carefully that you'd think he was taking care of a child."

Alice smiled and cocked her head to the side curiously, while Frank studied his mother with alternately shrewd and blank expressions on his face.

Augusta sighed shakily and checked her watch. "Gracious me, is that the time? I'm sorry, but I should be getting home to Neville. Merlin knows what would happen if he tried to cook for himself!"

She kissed her son on the cheek, and Alice on the forehead. "I'll be back after Neville Leaves for school."

They smiled blandly at her, and Alice nodded, and then handed her a candy wrapper.

She took it graciously and left them alone.

Hours later, after she'd had a silent and solitary cry in her room, she took the candy wrapper out of her pocket and put it in the drawer with all the other wrappers Alice had given her.

She, much like her grandson, had never thrown one out.

She never could figure out how Alice knew that pumpkin pasties were her favorite.

**BOOM**

**This chapter is FINALLY done!**

**I wrote it as I typed. I honestly had no idea where I was going with it until the end.**

**But thankfully, it is now out of the way, and I can continue on with the story, as planned.**


	13. All Aboard

**All Aboard**

_Platform 9 ¾, King's Cross Station, London, England, 1992_

She didn't want to be here.

She'd have much rather been back at the hospital with her father, or at the Potters cottage, or already at Hogwarts, or even trapped on a broomstick. Anywhere but here.

Because here, she watched as fathers ruffled hair and as mothers straightened jackets and soothed worries and kissed their children on their cheeks.

Here, she saw children help their younger siblings with their luggage and younger siblings cry and plead that their brothers and sisters didn't go to school.

Here, she saw her friends quietly laughing and shoving, attempting to be subtle in their gaiety so as to avoid upsetting her. Even Loki was being a bit more low- key than usual.

She snorted quietly. All people had been worried about for almost two months was upsetting her in some way. They seemed to think that she would just shatter like crystal.

Granted, she hadn't exactly given them any evidence that this assessment wasn't correct, but still. The Potters had kept her in their home since the party, since her father was still in the hospital, and they'd been nothing but good and understanding toward her, giving her space and anything she'd asked for.

Their tip-toeing around her was going to get on her nerves. They seemed to be doing the same to Blaise, who smiled weakly just outside their tight circle.

With a jolt, she realized that she hadn't spoken to him since the birthday party. She decided to remedy that, and made her way over to him.

"'lo, Blaise," she said quietly, watching their friends beside him.

"Hermione," he nodded.

"It's going to be a big year," she said.

"I know."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for it," she admitted. "I haven't memorized all the books."

"Nor have I," he said, smiling a tiny, sad, crooked smile at her.

"Do you- do you think it'll be difficult to catch up?"

"Not at all. We aren't behind, Hermione," he said.

"I feel behind," she said.

"Me too. But the important thing to remember is that we aren't," he whispered. "Everyone else is just as behind as we are."

"Are they?"

"Everyone is a bit behind these days," he said, nodding sagely. "But we'll catch up again. It'll just take some time."

"How much time?" she asked quietly.

"Quite a bit. But we'll get there."

"Are you sure?"

He smiled his sad smile again. "No."

"I miss my mum," she whispered.

"I miss mine, too."

"You have your aunt, though. You live with her now, don't you?"

"Yes. I lived with her before, though. At least during holidays."

"Oh." She was quiet for a moment.

"Yes. She keeps telling me that it'll get better, but I don't think it really will."

"Me either." She was quiet again, and then said, "My dad finally woke up yesterday."

"How is he?"

"Confused. Sad," she shrugged. "Not well, I suppose."

"I'm glad you still have him," Blaise said. "I'd liked to have known my dad."

"I'm glad you still have your aunt. Both of my parents are- were- their parents' only children, so I've never had an aunt," she said.

"I can't imagine not having Aunt Lina," he said quietly, burying his hands deep in his pockets.

Loki trotted over and bumped her hand with his snout, woofed at her, walked over to the train, and- though the others would think she was crazy- gestured for her to board.

"Well, it's almost 11," Blaise said. "I suppose we should get this show on the road. See you on the train." He smiled tightly and made his way over to his aunt, who was surrounded by Quidditch fans wanting her autograph and looking completely exasperated. "Oh, and Hermione?"

She stopped.

"I'm really sorry about your mum."

"I'm sorry about yours."

He nodded and walked away, and she went over to where Mr. and Mrs. Potter were standing, giving Henry a farewell hug and some last- minute advice.

"Did you forget something, sweetheart?" James asked with a warm smile as she reached them.

"N-no. I just wanted to say goodbye," she said.

Henry, seeming to understand that he wasn't needed here, gave his mum a peck on the cheek, let his dad muss his hair (protesting only a little), and even pulled a startled Hermione into a quick hug. "See you in a bit."

She nodded and even smiled slightly at him, and he walked to the train.

She was left standing in front of the Potters, who smiled at her, seeming a bit confused. "Did you need to ask us something, Hermione?" Lily asked.

She shook her head, and, after a moment of indecision, flung herself at them.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much for helping me."

"Nothing to thank us for, sweetheart. It was no trouble, and even more, it was the right thing to do," James assured her, hugging her close.

"We loved having you," Lily said, smoothing Hermione's wild curls back out of her watery brown eyes. "You're a great girl, and so sweet and smart. It was like having a daught-" She looked embarrassed. "You're always welcome in our home, Hermione. Always."

"Yes you are. It will be very strange to be there by ourselves for the next few months, let me tell you," James said, smiling a bit sadly.

"And you can write us, if you want," Lily offered.

"She'll be rather sad if you don't," James whispered, winking conspiratorially at her.

Lily rolled her eyes, but didn't deny the claim. "Anyway, please visit or floo or write whenever you like. If you ever have any questions or fears or just want to talk, we're always here, okay?"

Hermione nodded, wiping her hand across her eyes quickly. "I will. You're the best witch and wizard I know, and I- thank you."

"You're very welcome," they said.

"Now, go catch the train before she gets all weepy," James said.

"James!"

"Didn't say a thing, love," James said cheekily. "Go on now, sweetheart."

She gave the two of them a wet smile and ran to the train.

James put his arm around Lily as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Can we keep her?" she whispered.

"She isn't ours to keep, love," he said quietly, pulling her a bit closer.

"She should be," Lily said.

"She has her father," he reminded her, planting a soft kiss on top of her head.

"We can have a different one," she said. "Maybe a new one?"

He leaned back a bit to get a better look at her face, which was completely blank. "How new is new?"

She shrugged. "How new is too new?"

Just then, there came a cry of "All aboard!", and the scarlet train began to chug away, leaving those on the platform in a blanket of mist.

**Hey! No murdering the author! My muse is (finally) back, and if you kill me, you'll never know what it finally let me work out!**

**So, to recap- no killing me, my muse is back, and no killing me!**

**Thanks!**

**-Nefarious**


	14. Switch Points

**Switch Points**

_Hogwarts Express, England, 1992_

"Hey, this one's empty," Adrian called, shoving Loki away from his legs playfully as the large dog attempted to knock him over. "Ruddy beast, I should've left you home this year. That'd teach you…"

Loki growled and nipped at him before stalking moodily into the compartment

"Finally," Henry huffed. "We've been looking for ages!"

"It's been three and a half minutes, git," Draco snorted.

"That's too long," Henry said stubbornly.

They all rolled their eyes at him. "Sorry, oh mighty defeater of Voldemort. We didn't mean to offend," Ron drawled.

Henry smacked him upside the head. "That's alright, I'll live."

"Ouch!"

"Oh, shut up, the lot of you," Daphne groused.

"Yeah, knock it off," Blaise said tiredly. "Just let me in so I can sleep."

"How go the renovations, Blaise?" Draco asked, stepping aside and allowing the taller boy to pass him, followed by the rest of their friends.

"Not well," he sighed tiredly. "We've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron. The house was just…"

"Eviscerated?" Draco asked.

"Destroyed?" Neville supplied.

"Trashed?" Ron suggested.

"Demolished?" Adrian guessed.

"Woof!" Loki… woofed.

"All of the above," he sighed. "The beds at that inn are less than suitable, let me tell you."

"You could've stayed with us, mate," Adrian said. "We have plenty of room at the Manor, you know."

Blaise shrugged. "What's done is done, I guess. Besides, it'll be fixed up by Christmas, and that's when we'll actually need to live in it."

"Lina back in Italy, then?" Neville asked.

"Yeah, until Christmas, at very least. She was lucky to get as much time off as she did," Blaise said.

Draco nodded. "Especially with being scouted by the national team. That's a pretty big deal, even if the rest of Italy's Chasers don't know a broom from a barn."

"Hey!"

"It's true. Vercalli ran into the posts trying to fit his feet to the stirrups on his broomstick, mate," Ron pointed out. "And not for the first time, either."

As the boys launched into a heated argument, Daphne rolled her eyes and left the compartment in search of Hermione, who had yet to arrive.

Soon after she departed, Draco glanced around the compartment. The obvious ploy had worked in his favor, and none of his opinionated friends (or his brother) noticed when he looked at the large dog lounging at Adrian's feet and subtly jerked his head in the direction of the corridor outside the compartment. When Loki merely snorted at him, he smirked and whispered lowly, so only the dog could possibly hear him, "Come out, come out, _Sirius_. Come out, come out and play…"

Loki's large ears shot straight and his widened eyes slowly narrowed. Draco could swear he heard the dog's distinct rumbling growl.

He motioned to the hall again, and this time, the wolf-like creature followed, however grudgingly.

He didn't stop outside the compartment, instead walking toward the restrooms a few compartments down the train. Once he reached them, he walked inside, leaving the door open for the dog to follow him.

Loki padded after the boy cautiously, entering the room only after thoroughly examining it.

"So," Draco drawled, closing the door with his wand. He was perched (rather humorously, in the dog's opinion) on the toilet, acting as though it were a throne befitting a king or an emperor or perhaps even a pureblooded heir. "You can shake off the disguise, Sirius. I know it's you."

Loki growled but acquiesced, transforming before the boy's eyes into his rather more impressive human form. "How long have you known?" Sirius asked roughly, glaring at the blond boy.

"Oh, quite some time. Since last winter, at any rate. Do you remember meeting poor, scared little Vela in the garden?"

Sirius snarled. "I thought her scent was off. I knew better, dammit!"

"Yes, you did, Sirius, but you, as usual, barged into something long- term with half a plan," Draco accused.

"As usual? How would you know what my usual i-" he stopped, thought for a moment, and laughed bitterly. "Your mum."

"And her copy of the self- updating family history," Draco said smugly. "It's fascinating to read about Black family history as it happens…"

"Fantastic," Sirius muttered. "Must be very riveting stuff."

"Some of it is a bit dry, I'll admit," Draco said. "But you've always been interesting, eh Sirius?"

"Don't push me, boy. You may be my cousin's son, but if you breathe a word of this to-"

"And why would I do that, exactly?" Draco asked sardonically. "You're providing exactly what my father asked for; protection for his children. He's been trying to contact you for several weeks, you know. It was rude of you to ignore him."

"That overblown, pompous arsehole doesn't-"

"Yes, yes, you hate each other. I know, now do shut up so I can explain.

"In the past year or so that we've known you, you have done nothing untoward. You have saved my brother's life, and Marvela's, and even mine. But the real question is why?

"You're none too fond of any of us, including my mother, who I'm told was close to you when you were younger, and you hate my father outright. You don't seem to like me all that much, but you have a soft spot for my sister, and you sought my brother out to protect or follow or Merlin only knows what. Why? You'd never met him before, and yet, you cared very deeply for him from the get- go.

"Why?"

Now Sirius had a problem. Adrian was bold and clever and sly and funny, and undeniably intelligent. He'd known that Draco was smart as well, but he hadn't realized that the boy was onto his game, nor that he had been for damn near a year, and he had no idea how to answer him. Secretly, he berated himself for believing that Draco would've been the ignoramus of the two boys. He'd been at the top in their year, after all. Deciding that the best defense was to be offensive, he stood over the boy, using every inch of his tall, bulky frame to his advantage as he menacingly snarled, "I suppose you actually expect me to answer you, you inbred, weasel- faced albino?"

"Why yes I do, you slobbering, mangy- arsed giant," the boy replied after only a slight pause. "And who're _you_ calling inbred, son of Walburga Black- Black?"

_Damn_.

"Fine. The real reason I'm following your brother around is because he carries the best dog treats. Top shelf biscuits, those are."

Draco didn't even respond, merely quirked an eyebrow.

"Because I want to find out where all you Malfoy's get your pretty blond hair done."

"Because the dog bed is bigger than my last flat."

"Because I had to go incognito for a while and wanted to avoid Muggle leash laws."

"Because your family's villas are all near nude beaches."

"Because-"

"Enough!" Draco snapped. "Tell me the real reason, or I'll tell everyone who and what you really are, Sirius."

"I- I can't tell you. It isn't my place," he said at last.

"Make it your place, then, because I want to know, and I want to know _now_," Draco growled.

Sirius sighed and ran a hand though his hair in frustration. "Fine, I'll tell you, you badgering little blond prick."

Draco looked immensely proud of himself.

"The real reason I found your brother is-"

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

"Damn it all, Hermione, where did you get off to?" Daphne murmured as she absently shoved her way through a group of dopey- looking 7th years.

Still muttering muted curses, she slammed compartment doors open, often scaring the life out of whoever was inside before moving on to the next one.

"Bollocks," she cursed, getting to the front of the train and catching Perry Weasley (or whatever the Gryffindor sod's name was) snogging his girlfriend (who was the very pretty and very eligible Penelope Clearwater) senseless in the prefect's compartment. Not an image she needed, but certainly one she'd be sharing with Ron in great, gruesome detail later that day.

She hoped he turned purple.

"Daphne?"

The petite girl shrieked and jumped while attempting to turn toward the voice, resulting in her falling hard on her bum. "Ow."

She heard a yelp and a thud and saw large grey eyes blinking owlishly only centimeters from her face. "Is this a new sort of greeting? I'm afraid my father didn't teach me this one. It seems a bit strange, really."

"Hello, Luna," Daphne chuckled, a bit short of breath after having the daylights scared out of her. "No, it's not a new greeting. You startled me and I fell, that's all." She got to her feet and brushed herself off before pulling the tiny blond upright. "Did you fall on purpose, Luna?"

"Well, yes. I thought it was some sort of strange greeting that I wasn't familiar with. I didn't want to be rude, you see," the little girl explained.

Daphne sighed, exasperated. The girl in front of her was clearly unfamiliar with being around people. "Luna, would you care to sit with my friends and I, once I find Hermione?"

"I think that would be for the best."

That stumped the older girl. "Why is that, exactly?"

"Because of the wrackspurts, of course."

"The whatspurts?" Daphne asked, knowing deep down that she'd regret it.

The tiny blond considered this for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Ah, I see. You must already be afflicted with wrackspurts, whole swarms of them if I'm any judge… I'd recommend a dirigible plumb leaf tea, for you and everyone else. My father makes a rather nice dirigible plumb leaf tea."

"I'll look into that," Daphne replied sagely.

"Good. They help, really. I haven't had a single infestation since 1989," Luna said.

Daphne nodded, willing herself to keep a straight face. "Impressive."

Luna nodded absently. "I suppose. The real secret is to act as though you've no idea what's going on, despite the fact that the wrackspurts are clearly there. Most people are very good at it, I'm finding."

Daphne nodded seriously. "I'll keep that in mind, Luna."

"Good. Did you say you were looking for Hermione?"

"Yes, you remember her. The girl who ran into you that day in Diagon Alley?" Daphne prompted, heading back the way she'd come to check the back half of the train for her friend.

"Yes, the one with the Flugelhorn Curse on her hair? Rather unfortunate, but very irreversible. She'll have lovely hair forever, I'm afraid," Luna said sadly. "It's a pity, really. Sometimes having good hair is a burden."

"Uh, yes," Daphne managed. "I think, anyways…"

"She went to the back of the train when she got aboard," Luna said. "I told her that the rest of you were chasing an animagus named Stubby Boardman, and she went looking for you."

Daphne was quickly learning to avoid asking Luna any questions that could lead to anything even slightly off- topic, so she simply said, "Thanks, Luna."

"You're welcome," Luna chirped. "Are we going to hunt for her? I brought my catching net along, just in case." She pulled a net the was larger than Daphne out of her pocket.

"Your catching net? What else does one do with a net?" Daphne asked.

"Well, I've heard that the racier Muggles wear the ones they use to catch fish," Luna offered. "It's supposed to be fashionable, or so Father tells me." She pulled a much smaller net out of her pocket and pulled it over her head. "They don't seem very practical, though. For example, they make one smell of fish…"

Daphne gaped at the younger girl. "Muggles wear nets? Nets they use to catch fish?"

"Yes. They're rather strange…."

Daphne huffed in agreement. "That they are. Come along, now, and we'll look for Hermione."

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

Where were they?

That tiny Luna girl had told her some nonsense about her friends chasing animated boards all over the train. Or something like that.

Hermione sighed. She supposed it didn't particularly matter where they were, as she wasn't exactly at her most sociable, and in fact, she'd much rather be alone for a bit.

As fantastic as the Potters had been to Hermione, she hadn't had time to think much.

She mainly thought about the man. The man she was going to find. The one with the dark, dark eyes that lit up and at the same time sucked the sun away.

She set her jaw resolutely. One way or another, that man would die.

She wasn't an idiot; she knew that right now she had no chance in hell against him. But one day, she'd be stronger, and faster, and she wouldn't be afraid to put him down like the animal he was.

She acknowledged that revenge wasn't something the average twelve- year old focused on, but most twelve- year olds hadn't witnessed their parent being casually gutted.

Her eyes narrowed. He would discover, slowly and meticulously, the pain he'd caused her.

She anticipated that day with an enthusiasm that was borderline feral.

She tired of peeking into compartments and resolved to take a seat in the next one, occupants be damned.

She opened the door more forcefully than she'd intended and scared the life out of the boy reading inside.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," he said, returning to his book.

She sighed with relief and dropped onto the bench opposite him. "Thanks. I can't find my friends anywhere."

He looked at her over the top of his book, and by the crinkling of his eyes, she thought he might be smiling at you. "It's no trouble."

"What are you reading?" she asked, unable to resist her curiosity.

He looked about cautiously, even poking his head into the aisle way between the bench seats in the compartment to be sure no one was listening. "It's the Chronicles of Narnia," he nearly whispered.

"I love those books!" she said flatly, unable to muster any enthusiasm.

"Really? I haven't been able to find anyone else who-" he cut off his sentence abruptly and eyed her sharply. "Are you a halfblood?"

She stiffened. She'd seen firsthand how dangerous it was to be muggleborn. "No," she said firmly, "I'm not."

He cocked his head, dark eyes appraising. "No?"

"No," she confirmed.

He nodded in understanding. "I see," he said quietly.

She felt her temper flare. "Would you prefer I leave? I wouldn't want you to soil your reputation, whoever you are."

His eyes sparked with amusement. "I'm Theodore Nott, Granger. And don't worry, you won't soil my reputation. If anything did, it'd be my hidden cache of Muggle novels." He put his finger to his lips, motioning for her to keep his secret a secret.

She recognized the surname as belonging to a very old, very pure magical family, and nodded seriously.

"Would you like a book?" he asked.

She shrugged noncommittally.

"Here," he said, handing her his bookbag, "look through mine. They're all really good, I swear. And if you don't finish one, you can borrow it, so long as I get it back."

She dug around until she felt worn leather and pulled out the book that was bound in it.

"There's no title," she said blankly, turning it over in her hands.

"I know. It's to keep my family from finding out that I read Muggle books," he explained, eyes glued to the page before him.

She looked at the black leather book and shrugged, stuffing it into her own bag for later. "So, Nott, you're in the same dorm as Adrian, Ron, Draco, and Blaise?"

"Yeah, though they aren't in the dungeons much. Probably running around past curfew like a bunch of ghouls," he joked.

"Yeah, right," she said quickly. "But they'd get caught. It's not like they're invisib-" Realizing what she'd been about to say, she clamped her jaw shut.

Nott looked at her curiously. "Invisible? No, I suppose not."

"I- I have to go," she stammered, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. "Thanks for the book."

And with that, she fled the compartment, leaving a very bemused boy behind. "Muggleborns can be very strange," he said to himself before shaking the thought from his head and continuing with his book.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

"There you are!" Daphne yelled at Hermione as the girl emerged from a compartment, looking a bit shaken.

Daphne had forgotten how jumpy Hermione was, and the aforementioned witch yelped, jumped, smacked into the door of the compartment she'd just exited, and fell hard on her rear.

"Bollocks," Daphne muttered, starting toward her fallen friend. She heard a startled yell and a similar series of bumps directly behind her and saw Luna sprawled on the floor, looking about serenely. "Luna, did you do that on purpose again?" she asked tiredly.

Luna blinked at her. "Of course. I was saying hello."

"I told you before, falling and being frightened isn't a greeting."

"But everyone is doing it these days," Luna explained slowly.

Daphne closed her eyes, shook her head, and walked over to Hermione, helping the taller girl to her feet. At her friend's questioning look, she quietly begged, "Don't ask, please. When Luna talks, it makes my head ache."

Hermione nodded mutely and replaced her bag on her shoulder, thankfully taking her friend's advice.

Daphne sighed with relief and moved to Luna, who had gotten up on her own. "Are we going to have to greet many more people? I may bruise if we keep up this pace."

Daphne closed her eyes again and counted to ten. "No, just the rest of our friends. That greeting isn't necessary with them, as they're all blokes," she said, pulling an explanation out of thin air. "We only fall when greeting other girls we're acquainted with, you see."

Luna nodded understandingly. "Of course. It makes perfect sense now."

It did?

Daphne shook her head again, linked her arm through Hermione's and put her arm around Luna's shoulders, if only to prevent her from "greeting" anyone else. "They're further up the train," she told Hermione.

The girl nodded at her and a muscle in her jaw twitched.

Daphne squeezed her friend's arm, and Hermione squeezed back, the faintest ghost of a smile on her face.

"Don't worry, we all love you," Daphne whispered. "Even that ruddy dog is mad about you."

Hermione blinked hard and nodded.

And with that, all three girls set forth, mostly unaware of the oddities that had transpired that afternoon and completely unaware of the changes they would bring in their wake.

**Holy long chapter, Batman!**

**Enjoy, review, suggest, question, etc.**

**-Nefarious**


	15. Fallout

**Fallout**

_Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, 1992_

The Great Hall was unusually somber for the Welcoming Feast, but this wasn't unexpected. Vaguely, Adrian pitied the first years, who had been looking forward to this day for months or years, only to have it spoiled weeks before the start of term. Spoiled by _him_, by _his friends_. Merlin, All they'd wanted was a birthday party.

Looking around at the faces around him, young faces that were much too serious, he swallowed his guilt down thickly.

He never wanted to have a birthday party again.

Hermione was a wreck. They were all trying to make light of it, to give her time, give her space, but she barely spoke. She didn't look at them.

Blaise wasn't much better, honestly. He moped around, not quite the way Hermione did, but there was moping nonetheless. When he talked to them, Adrian could see his own guilt reflected in his friend's eyes. It was in all their eyes.

It was their fault. All their fault.  
His fault.

Abruptly, he shoved his food away and stood, jumping over the bench and stalking out of the hall. He couldn't take the atmosphere anymore.

He heard the _click-clack_ of Loki's nails echoing behind him, and he smiled bitterly. Of course his dog would follow him. His loyal, irritating dog.

"Loki," he sighed. The dog trotted up to his side and bumped his hand with his wet snout, and he threaded his fingers into the thick fur. "This isn't a great start to the year, is it?"

Loki woofed softly.

Adrian kept walking until he reached the Astronomy Tower, his favorite place to be alone. He didn't get much opportunity, as it was usually occupied by the time the stars came out. He'd learned the hard way that he shouldn't go up after dark.

When he finally arrived at his destination, he closed the door behind him and slid to the floor. His head dropped into his hands. "It doesn't make any sense," he whispered. "They hurt people for no good reason. They hurt people in my _home._"

Loki rested his head on the boy's knee, whining and watching him intently.

"It just- it doesn't… It doesn't make any sense," he repeated brokenly.

There really wasn't much more to say.

~~~BbB:tAH~~~

Once he'd pulled himself together, he headed back toward the dungeons and his bed. He was halfway there and only halfway paying attention when he ran into a large group of older boys coming out of the kitchens and fell to the floor in a heap. They'd clearly gotten their hands on some alcohol, because they swayed and squinted down at him, trying to make out his features.

"Th' bluddy 'ell are you?" one of them snarled, inches from his face. His breath was rank, and he was far beyond drunk. He was probably a sixth year, Muggleborn judging by his clothes, and a good foot taller than Adrian was, bare arms flexing with ropey muscles. Loki growled low in his throat, hackles rising.

He pushed his hand against the other boy's chest firmly, though not aggressively, and rolled to his feet. He looked up at them as he brushed himself off and gave them his most charming crooked smile. "Adrian," he stuck his hand out to them, "and you gents are?"

They looked at him, completely bemused. No names were forthcoming.

"Right, well, I'd best get back to the dungeons, eh? Good night to you all," he said, turning to leave.

"I'll walk you down, Malfoy," a familiar voice said, and a hand clamped down on his shoulder, propelling him forward. Loki loped gracefully ahead of them.

He looked up and saw the grim face of Cedric Diggory beside him in the darkness. Once they'd rounded a corner, the grip on his shoulder increased almost painfully, and he was forced into a passageway behind a tapestry. Just as he started to protest, Cedric clamped his hand over the younger boy's mouth and pressed his finger to his lips, motioning him to be quiet.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor, a large number of them, and faded out as they continued on. Soon, there was a deathly quiet.

Cedric slowly removed his hand from Adrian's mouth. "What the hell are you thinking, wandering about by yourself?" he hissed. "Don't you know how dangerous it is to be caught alone, especially for a little Slytherin like you?" He slammed his hand against the wall next to Adrian's head, startling the boy. "Don't you know?!" he yelled.

Adrian gaped at him. From what he knew of Cedric, both from Henry and his own experiences, the Hufflepuff was an even-tempered, collected, happy-go-lucky sort. The boy before him was nearly unhinged.

"These halls are not safe at night, Adrian. Not for you, and not for your brother. With what happened-" he seemed to choke on his words and gasped for breath.

Adrian remembered that his mother had been grievously injured during the attack. He didn't even know if she'd survived. His stomach twisted sharply with guilt.

_His fault_.

Cedric composed himself and took a shaky breath. "With what happened this summer, everyone is looking for someone to blame. They want justi- they want revenge. It isn't safe for any of you Slytherins to be out after dark, Malfoy," he said fervently. "Hogwarts isn't safe for you anymore, Adrian."

Adrian nodded mutely, reading between the lines.

Cedric did indeed walk him all the way back to the Slytherin common room. "Please be careful. Tell your friends the same."

Adrian nodded again. "Thank you, Cedric. Don't get caught, yourself. It's after curfew."

Cedric half-smiled at him and pointed to a silver shield which was pinned to his robes. "I'm Hufflepuff's 5th Year Prefect, Malfoy. Now get to bed before I give you a dentention."

Adrian snorted and went into the common room. Loki was already lounging by the fire, and his friends were sprawled on the floor, reading books and talking quietly.

"You will never believe what just happened," he said, flopping onto the floor beside Daphne. Looking around, he didn't see his brother. "Where's Draco?"

Daphne, Blaise, and Ron exchanged glances. "He went to bed. Said he was too tired to wait up for you," Daphne said.

Adrian's brow furrowed. That didn't sound like his overprotective brother at all. "Is he ill?"

"Nah, just tired, mate," Ron said, ruffling his friend's perpetually unruly hair. "Nothing to worry about."

Blaise rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting.

Adrian shoved Ron's hand away and climbed to his feet. "I'm going to talk to him. I've barely seen him since we got off the train."

His friends bid him goodnight and he descended the stairs to the boy's dormitories.

Draco was sitting on his bed in his bathrobe, hair still wet from the shower. He was staring off into space, and when Adrian sat beside him on the bed, he started.

"Hey, you alright?" Adrian asked, throwing his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Feeling ill?"

"I'm fine, Adrian," Draco said gruffly. "It was a long day and I'm tired, that's all."

"I hear you, mate. You'll never belie-"

"Look," Draco said, shrugging Adrian's arm off, "like I said, I'm tired, and we have classes tomorrow. I'd really like to get to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow, alright?"

Adrian stared. Draco had just dismissed him. He did it politely, but the message was clear.

_Leave me alone. Go away, and leave me alone._

He stood numbly. Draco never dismissed him. He was his brother, his best friend. He moved over to his own bed, and Draco pulled the curtains around his bed shut.

He stared at the deep emerald draperies for a few minutes before he gathered up his shower things and made his way to the bathroom.

On his way, he ran into Theodore Nott, who had a towel wrapped around his waist and a toothbrush in his mouth.

"Alright there, Malfoy?" he asked.

Adrian grunted in return, and Nott examined him more closely.

"Merlin, Malfoy, did a ghost pass through you or something? You look like hell."

Adrian grunted again and pushed his way past the other boy.

"Git," he heard muttered behind him.

He snorted and shoved the door open forcefully before slamming it behind him. "Go to hell, Nott," he snarled to the empty bathroom. "Go to hell, all of you."

This really wasn't a great start to the year.

**OH MY GOD, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!  
-Nefarious**


	16. Family Time

**Family Time**

_Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, 1992_

When Adrian woke the next morning, Draco was already gone, though Ron was still snoring and Blaise was just beginning to stir. Loki had climbed up onto his bed sometime during the night and was watching him sleepily. Not that this was anything new.

He didn't know why his brother was upset with him. Draco had disappeared on the train, and then spent the rest of the night ignoring him.

Maybe he'd hurt his brother without realizing it. Yes, that had to be it. As much as he loved Draco, he could be petulant and he held a grudge. He'd need to find him and make up for whatever he'd done, and quickly. He didn't want this to turn into a fight.

He dressed quickly and ran out into the common room. Theodore Nott was apparently up early this morning, and by the looks of things, he'd lost something already. Something important, if the state of the common room was any indicator. Tables were upended, couch cushions were thrown all over the room, and every drawer had been ripped from every desk.

"Lose something, did you?" he asked.

Nott, who'd had his head under a desk, started, yelped, and bumped his head hard against the underside of the desk. He said a few choice words before poking his head out and glaring at Adrian, his normally neat hair sticking up every which way. "Yes, I did, not that it's any of _your_ business, Malfoy."

Adrian rolled his eyes and walked over to where the other boy was kneeling, still rubbing his head and scowling. "What did you lose?"

Nott turned scarlet. "It's a book. A small black book, bound in leather," he said, obviously embarrassed. "There's a brass plate on the bottom of the back cover."

"Got it," Adrian said. "Do you want help looking?"

Nott looked up at him. "No, I think I'll manage, Malfoy."

Adrian nodded and walked to the door. "I'll keep an eye out for it, Nott."

"Malfoy."

He turned back expectantly.

"Thank you," Nott said.

He saluted the other boy with his wand and made his way to the Great Hall.

~~~BbB:tAH~~~

"Adrian!"

He turned and came face to face with Henry, who was grinning hugely. He couldn't help returning his friend's smile.

"'lo, Hank," he said lightly. "How was it back in the Badger's Sett?"

"Oh, fine. Quiet, though. Creepy quiet, you know? Everyone was all huddled together"

Adrian nodded, his good mood evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. "Same in Slytherin."

"Everyone lost someone, I s'pose," Henry said, brow furrowed, eyes serious, and mouth set in a hard line. For the first time since Adrian had met him, Henry looked like an adult. Someone who set out to conquer the world and did; someone who was more than just another kid.

He looked like the hero he supposedly was, who he could be, one day.

The thought scared him, though he didn't know why.

Adrian threw his arm around Henry's shoulders, made easier now that he was slightly taller than his friend, and squeezed his neck. "Yeah. But we'll be alright, mate. We all will. Just give it some time."

Henry nodded, and his face smoothed out before breaking into a small smile. "You're right. Sorry, with Hermione at the cottage, and my dad being gone so much at the Ministry, I-"

"Don't worry about it, Hank," Adrian said, giving him another squeeze. "We all get our knickers in a twist sometime. Just ask Drake, his must be tied up in knots, the way he's been acting."

Henry snorted and ducked under his friend's arm, pushing him playfully. "Some brother you are."

Adrian laughed and grabbed his friend in a headlock, mussing his hair with his free hand. "Oh, and I suppose you'd be so much better, would you?"

"I'd be an excellent brother, thank you," Henry sniffed primly.

"Better than Draco's being, at any rate," Adrian sulked, frowning.

"Hey, now. While I don't doubt that I'd be a far superior brother-"

Adrian snorted.

"-don't go saying things like that when you're angry. True or not."

Adrian sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

"Of course I'm right," Henry declared. "I'm always right, which proves that I'd be a fantastic brother." And with that, Henry flipped his friend's robes over his head with a flick of his wand and danced away, laughing madly.

Adrian roared at chased after him, shooting jinxes at him playfully.

Neither of them noticed Draco standing in the shadows behind them, looking positively furious at what he'd overheard. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

"He's _my_ brother, Potter. _Mine_," he snarled softly. He turned on his heel and was faced with none other than Sirius Black.

He was leaning against the wall, watching the scene unfold with no small amount of amusement. He was dressed as much like a Muggle as ever, favoring denim jeans and his ever-present leather jacket, a fact which annoyed Draco. He pushed off from the wall, produced an apple from his pocket and shined it on Draco's pristine school robes, which only seemed to irk him further. "Oh, aye. And what a phenomenal brother you are, little Malfoy." The big man barked a laugh which rang harshly in Draco's ears. "Tell me, snapdragon, are you intentionally being a prick, or is this simply your breeding?"

Draco seethed at the man, which only made him laugh again. "Little Malfoy," he boomed, stooping down so that he was at eye-level with the boy. Suddenly his characteristic merriment was gone, and his voice lowered threateningly. "Do you _really_ think that you intimidate me in the slightest? I grew up with Walburga Black for a mother, Orion Black for a father, and dear, dear Bella as a cousin. You, little boy, are not even fit to scowl at toddlers."

Draco swallowed thickly. Sirius may be a fun guy, happy to go with the flow and always up for an adventure, but the fact remained that he was not only a grown wizard, but a talented and highly trained one at that. He'd been one of the best Aurors during the last war, preferring efficiency and stealth to wands-blazing insanity, but he was no less lethal for it.

The fact that he was undeniably gigantic also didn't help Draco's confidence.

"You are pushing him away, you swotty little moron," Sirius informed him. "You need to grow up and be a brother."

"But they lied t-"

"No!" Sirius cut in sharply. "No. No excuses. You wanted to know so badly, _you_ will accept the consequences like the adult you're so desperate to be. Because if you don't, if for one moment you make him doubt that he is loved, I will whisk him away so quickly your head will spin. Do we understand one another, little Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, head hanging in shame. "I'm sorry, it's just… it's a lot, you know?"

Sirius sighed and squatted before him. Irritating as this little weasel was, over the past year he'd grown ever so slightly fond of him. "Look," he said, lifting the boy's chin so that they were eye-to-eye, "I lost my own brother to a stupid rivalry that devolved into us being on opposite sides of a war. I'd hate for that to happen to my godson, and to you. Apologies can be made, spells can be reversed, bridges can be mostly mended, and trust can be mostly regained.

"But I will never, ever see my little brother again, Draco. Remember what you stand to lose for the sake of your pride."

Draco nodded curtly. "I will. Thank you, Sirius."

"Don't mention it, you pompous little git," Sirius said, ruffling the boy's hair and standing.

If Draco didn't know any better, he'd have sworn that the insults were affectionate rather than genuine. Sirius began to lope gracefully off after Henry and Adrian.

"No running in the halls, you flea-bitten, half-arsed excuse for a mongrel!" Draco yelled after him, ignoring the funny looks from the students who were now making their way to the Great Hall.

All he got as an answer was distinctly dog-like laughter echoing back to him.

**Hi! So remember what I said about killing me?  
Please don't! I'm better now, I swear!**

**-Nefarious**


	17. Best Laid Plans of Wolves and Goblins

**Best Laid Plans of Wolves and Goblins**

_Transfiguration Classroom, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland_

As Remus surveyed the classroom, he suppressed a sigh. There were very few students who didn't flinch whenever he waved a wand. He knew the cause, of course; the battle had left scars on everyone, especially the students. Even these fifth years were subdued and distracted

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn't know how to reach them. He couldn't very well teach them when he knew they wouldn't retain anything, but neither could he allow them to simply sit and mope with their O.W.L.s at the end of the year. They needed something exciting. Something to shake the cobwebs from their minds and engage them.

He smiled as an idea slowly formed.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

"Professor, why are we outside?" a Gryffindor girl called, and murmurs of confused agreement arose.

"We are outside because it is far too nice a day to spend indoors," he informed them. "Today, and all this week, is going to be a bit different. All of the houses and two classes will be combined per day. Today is the day for fifth years."

"What will we be doing?" a boy yelled as the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws approached, Flitwick trailing after them.

"You will be, for lack of better word, fighting."

Startled cries and angry voices rose at this, and Flitwick whistled sharply to regain their attention. "Not with harmful spells," he declared. "With recent events being what they are, it has been determined that rather than traditional methods, all students should learn basic defensive procedures."

"Then why isn't Lockheart here?" someone yelled.

At this, Remus and Fillius shared a look. Gilderoy Lockheart was an idiot. Remus knew it from being a few years ahead at school and attempting to tutor him in nearly every subject, while Fillius had been one of his unfortunate professors. There was no need for him to be here, as far as they could see.

"Because he is more experienced with magical creatures than with large scale fighting," Remus lied diplomatically. "Here to help us today is Sirius Black, whom I'm sure many of you remember from last year. Sirius is a highly trained Auror who has traveled all over the world. He has generously agreed to assist in your instruction."

Here, Sirius stood from where he'd been leaning against a tree, unnoticed by the students. He smiled winningly at them and removed his jacket, as it was an unusually warm day.

Several girls chattered approvingly, and the boys seemed happy to see the large Auror again, as he'd been very popular with all the students.

"Please remove your outer robes," he called. "They're too cumbersome, and I don't want to take any of you to the hospital wing because you got overheated and fainted on me."

The students did as he asked, and he nodded approvingly. "I'm glad to see that most of you are attired appropriately. However, this is going to be highly physical, and for the young ladies present, skirts will not work very well. So, since we're already here and I don't wish to waste any time, a few House Elves will be providing some spare sets of pants. From now on, for these lessons, please wear trousers, jeans, or other long leg ware. Trainers or other athletic shoes would also be beneficial."

A dozen House Elves appeared moments later, arms loaded with uniform pants in various shapes and sizes. Though slightly hesitant at first, eventually all the girls grabbed a pair that looked to be the proper size and changed behind a barrier that Remus transfigured from some fallen trees. Once everyone had changed, they looked at Sirius expectantly.

"Right, then. Today and most other days, we'll be focusing on defense and escape. The goal is not to attack, but to distract and flee. We will be using this section of the Forbidden Forest-"

Loud murmurs of dissent arose at this.

"-as an obstacle course," Sirius continued, ignoring them. "The area has been cleared of anything that you are not already familiar with from your DADA classes. Professors Lupin, Flitwick, and I will be the aggressors. We will not be shooting anything humiliating, painful, harmful, or permanent at you, only stinging jinxes, jelly legs, and other First Year spells. In fact, some spells will be fired at one another to simulate a real battle with multiple duels taking place. Since apparition is not possible on Hogwarts grounds, and none of you can apparate anyway, your goal will be a set of gold rings on the ground. Assume that these rings are outside of any anti- apparition or portkey wards. These rings will be large and easily visible, and are about two miles deep in the forest. The boundary is a mile wide, so there is a lot of area to cover. The boundary is visible, and if you pass through it, it will feel as though a ghost went through you.

"Remember, the goal is not to engage in a battle, it is to escape safely. If any of you begin shooting offensive spells at other students, you will be disqualified and will no longer take part in this exercise for the remainder of the year. Instead, you will spend these days with Mr. Filch in detention. Yes, an entire day, from breakfast until dinner, scrubbing Hogwarts without magic, once a week, for a year. If you use any dangerous spells on a Professor or me, same story, plus whatever our reflexes do to you. If any of you intentionally step outside the boundaries, we will know. If you maim or kill a creature which has not attacked, you could well be expelled for cruelty. Is everyone clear on the rules?"

The assembled students nodded eagerly.

"Then begin!"

And with that, Lupin, Flitwick, and Black disappeared, leaving forty students standing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

"What're we supposed to do, just run in there?" someone yelled.

"No," Cedric Diggory said firmly. "Absolutely not. Who's the best in Defense in Gryffindor?"

A tall burly boy stepped forward confidently, as did a lean girl.

"Names?" he asked.

"Jameson," the boy replied.

"Foxe," said the girl.

"Very good, stand there. Ravenclaw?"

"Ford," called a short boy.

"Croft," a lanky boy said, standing beside his housemate.

"Slytherin?" Cedric asked.

"Flint," said the troll-like boy.

"Abrams," a tiny, mischievous girl said.

"Right. Howe, and… Jones, go with them. You lot will be the fore guard for two houses. We'll say Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Prefects for those houses are rear guard. Spread out, no organized rows and columns. If you want, you may switch teams or break off into smaller groups, but the prefects will not be protecting those groups. Clear?"

"Who put you in charge?" a Slytherin girl yelled belligerently.

"Do you have a better idea of how to get past three of the most experienced men in the country, Simms?" Cedric barked. Silence reigned, and he nodded approvingly. "Excellent, then let's go."

~~~~~BbB: tAH~~~~~

The teams crept through the forest as quietly as they could, and after a few hundred yards separated. A few small groups broke off from the others, deciding on forging their own way.

As part of the rear guard, Cedric was on high alert, listening for any sounds behind him. Soon, he began walking sideways, so that he was able to see all around him, trusting that the other prefects would watch his back. It had been about an hour since the exercise had begun, and aside from a boggart hiding in a hollow tree, nothing had happened thus far.

A student in front of him shivered suddenly, apparently overcome by the eerily quiet forest. Not even birds were chirping…

"Duck!" one of the Prefects yelled from his right, and a swarm of blue overtook her. There were yells of surprise at the sudden pixie attack before another horde attacked the front. Unfortunately, the fore guard had not been prepared and was unable to immobilize them before they began causing mayhem. The students in the middle of the group scattered, running left and far from the tiny menaces.

Meanwhile the beleaguered Prefect had managed to roll away, allowing the others to banish the troublesome creatures back in the direction they'd come from.

"Bloody pixies," she grumbled, brushing herself off and recovering her wand.

Cedric caught the eye of the fore guard and motioned for them to hurry up, as the yelling had probably given away their position.

The group hurried off, some students stumbling before being hauled to their feet. They headed opposite the direction the pixies had come from, not wanting to deal with any more of them. The Cornish Pixies had been unexpected, and they must've been planted at some point.

Scotland was not their usual habitat.

Cedric, upon realizing this, experienced a moment of dread. "Wands up!" he yelled. "Run! It's a trap!"

And that's when the ground opened up, swallowing three confused students whole.

The remaining students suddenly encountered falling trees, small explosions, and spell fire being exchanged across their path.

Somewhere not far away, a wolf howled.

"Stay together!" Cedric yelled through the chaos. "Don't split up, or no one will make it."

Several students did not listen and were soon hit with stinging jinxes and stupefied.

"Stay together, yeh grea' stupid idiots!" the female Gryffindor Prefect yelled. "Stay together or I'll wallop yeh!"

Her threat seemed effective, as most of the students stopped trying to break free and instead began sprinting full tilt through the battlefield.

Out of their original 20 students, only 12 remained, and they seemed determined to make it through the forest.

"Look out!" someone yelled, and an unearthly shriek rent the air just before the ground before them exploded in a cloud of dust, making it impossible to see for several precious seconds.

"Run, dammit!" someone screamed, pushing the others forward blindly.

Soon they could see again, and the battle appeared to be behind them. Ten students remained, including Cedric, and the female Gryffindor Prefect. The others had apparently become lost in the confusion.

"How far out are we?" someone panted, leaning heavily on a tree.

"Almost two miles," a Hufflepuff responded. "We should be pretty clo-"

A twig snapped loudly behind them, followed by an audible yelp.

"Run!"

~~~~~BbB:tAH~~~~~

"I'm getting old, Moony," Sirius panted as they sprinted after the students who'd managed to make it through the staged battle. So far the only injuries were a few bruises, scrapes, and some soil in an eye or two.

Remus laughed merrily, grateful for the increased stamina that was part of being a werewolf. "Oh, come on, Padfoot! This is fun!"

"Oh, yes, a merry chase through a massive, heavily wooded forest with 40 people to track. Joy of joys, what fun," Sirius snarked. "We've been running for two hours!"

"An hour and a quarter," Remus corrected, grinning at his friend.

"Whatever! Too long at any ra- Ow!"

Remus had snapped a branch back, and it hit Sirius square on the nose. He clutched his wounded extremity and glared at his friend. "Oh, ha ha, very funny, you great mangy rabbit-chaser…"

The guilty party merely grinned and loped off deeper into the forest in pursuit of their prey.

~~~~~BbB:tAH~~~~~

"Diggory," the Gryffindor Prefect whispered. For the life of him, Cedric could not remember her name. "I thin' I see i'."

Wearily, he squinted through the trees, just able to make out a golden glow a few hundred yards ahead.

"Everyone," he said in a low voice, "the rings are just ahead. Split up, either alone or in small groups and run to them by as unpredictable a route as you can. Large groups won't do much good now."

They nodded and began running in all different directions, though the other remaining Prefect stuck with Cedric. They themselves ducked, rolled, and dodged through the flora, though no threat was visible.

A cry of surprise rang out, only to be silenced nearly instantly. They increased their already frantic pace, only to come face to face with Professor Flitwick.

"_Protego_!" Cedric yelled. "_Depulso_!"

Flitwick quickly brought up his own shield, but gave them enough time to get past him. Pointing his wand at the ground under their feet, the Gryffindor yelled, "_Bombarda_!", causing the ground to go up in a haze of dirt and debris. She grabbed Cedric's arm and dragged him off their original course, still running for the gold rings.

"Almos' there," she panted. "Tha' explosion should've thrown him o-"

Cedric tackled her to the ground and covered her mouth, and three heavy sets of footsteps raced past them. He sighed. "Brilliant. We'll never get past all three of them."

She shoved him off her roughly and rolled onto her stomach. Taking careful aim with her wand, she launched bluebell flames at the men's feet. "Go!"

Thrown off guard by the sudden fire, Sirius was further confused when two students pushed past him, followed by three more.

Remus seemed to be having fewer difficulties, as he'd stupefied the students who attempted to get past him.

Flitwick was behind both of them, and handily stunned any students who made it past his comrades, including Cedric and the Gryffindor.

No students made it to the rings, the furthest along falling just a few yards short.

~~~~~BbB:tAH~~~~~

"I'm impressed," Sirius declared on the way out of the forest, reviving students as he went. "They did very well for fifth years, especially with the wonky instruction they get in Defense each year."

Remus nodded in agreement. "Yes, their strategy was fairly good, though multiple small groups would have served them better in this scenario."

Sirius grunted.

Once they were all outside the forest, Sirius called their attention. "You all did very well today. The strategy was solid, and your organization and communication for the first bit was very impressive.

"However, as soon as you were confronted with spell fire, none of you raised shields or hid. You simply ran recklessly. Keep in mind that shields can protect you from neigh any spell that comes your way."

"Who came up with the two team strategy?" Flitwick asked.

"Diggory," came the response.

"And the bluebell fire? Who cast it at my colleagues?"

"Anders, sir," the Gryffidor Prefect replied. "Cassie Anders."

"Twenty points to each of you, for providing means to escape to your fellow students. For the rest who followed the instructions given, five points.

"For those of you who disregarded advice and attempted to show off by going it alone, no points. Teamwork is what will save you in a large battle, not pride or bigheadedness," Flitwick told them sternly. "You're dismissed for the day. I suggest going down to the lake and lazing about until dinner.'

A cheer went up and the students scattered off with their friends, determined to enjoy their unexpected free time.


	18. Who's Afraid of the Yellow Eye?

**Who's Afraid of the Yellow Eye?**

_Slytherin Common Room, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, 1992_

Despite their rather random argument, Adrian's relationship with his brother resumed mere hours after it was interrupted, and Adrian himself didn't particularly care what his brother's problem had been so long as it was no longer an issue.

It was nearly the end of the first week, and the Second Years had yet to experience the 'Defensive Maneuvers and Tactics' drills that most of the other Years had already endured. Reviews ranged from idiotic to fun to useless to dead useful, and he was looking forward to it, especially since Professor Lupin and Uncle Severus would be conducting the Second Year class, along with Sirius Black.

But for the moment, there was something far more important on his mind, and the minds of his friends; Quidditch tryouts were to be held in two days, and he was determined to make the team. He had the perfect build, loads of experience, and a broom that wasn't even on the market yet. He should be absolutely confident.

Except he wasn't.

To be honest, Adrian Malfoy was a nervous wreck. He was knocking over everything he touched, he'd lost a shoe in Herbology (a _shoe_. He didn't even know how shoes could be lost while one was _wearing_ them), and he'd managed to smack Goyle across the face with his wand when he tried to practice a spell, giving the other boy a horned nose and a bulging eye for more than a day.

He had studied the current Seeker's tactics all of last year, he'd been in multiple competitions this summer around Europe, in both speed and dexterity, and had won most and tied others with Bulgaria's Seeker Viktor Krum. In one competition that had taken place just before the birthday party, he'd won his secret weapon.

But he was nervous nonetheless, and these jitters were only compounded when it was announced that all teams would be holding tryouts on the same day, one team after the next, which meant that nearly the whole school would be in attendance.

And now, sprawled on the rug in front of the fireplace using Loki as a pillow, Daphne and Blaise bickering about something or other nearby, it began to sink in that he was attempting to unseat an older student.

Granted, this student wasn't as skilled, but he'd led them to the cup the year before, and that counted for quite a bit.

Sighing, Adrian clambered to his feet and made his way out of the common room in search of food or distraction. Loki padded along after him, seemingly unable to help following his master wherever he went.

He'd made it to the second floor when he heard an odd noise coming from behind a tapestry. Feeling as though this could be the distraction he was looking for, he crept closer and, moving the heavy cloth aside, peeked behind it.

There was a passageway that he'd never seen before and, as far as he could recall, wasn't on the map.

"What on Earth?" he muttered. Ignoring Loki's low rumbling growl, he stepped fully into the mysterious corridor.

There seemed to be several rooms attached to the main hallway, and he wondered why an entire corridor of classrooms had been covered up. They didn't appear to have been used for several years, if the dust was any indication, and that only served to intrigue him further. Cautiously, he opened the first unlocked door, wand at the ready, and discovered an empty classroom. Desks were stacked neatly, and there seemed to be a chalkboard at the front of the room. Just as he was closing the door, something odd caught his eye.

"_Lumos_," he incanted softly, and when the soft light showed what had drawn his attention, he nearly dropped his wand.

Written in huge, disorderly letters was, 'Who's afraid of the yellow eye?' with a ghastly illustration of what appeared to be a dead girl with a smiling crowd around her.

Gulping, he backed up slightly, and passed through something cold. Though he'd never admit it if anyone asked, he was so startled that he yelled and fell to the ground, wand flying out of his hand and rolling under a desk.

His light now extinguished, he began to panic in the dark room. Something about this place was not right, and it made him jumpy.

"What," an angry voice hissed in his ear, "are you doing in here?"

The hairs on his neck stood on end, and he fought an urge to scream. "Who-who are you?"

"I asked you first!" the voice bellowed. "What are you doing in here? You aren't allowed!"

"I'm Adrian, I was just curious is all," he said, hoping to placate whoever or whatever the voice was. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Oh yes," the voice yelled. "Who would want to disturb me? You all avoid me like I'm diseased!"

He gulped again. "What is this place?"

"None of your business! Now leave, and take your dog with you!" the voice shrieked, sounding mere centimeters away from his face. "GO!"

"I need my wand," he said, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt. His hands were shaking badly now. "It fell under those desks there."

"Fine. But then you have to LEAVE. This is _my_ place, and you aren't allowed, none of you."

"Alright, I'll leave. I promise," he assured the voice, trying not to shake. "Loki, get my wand."

He heard the big dog scamper over to the desks and back, and his snout bumped Adrian's shoulder with more than a little urgency. Adrian stood slowly, unsure of where the voice's source was at the moment, and started to make his way to the door.

"**GO! NOW!**" it bellowed, and he heard something rushing toward him.

Loki yelped and bolted, Adrian hot on his heels as the voice continued to chase him down the long-abandoned corridor.

"Leave me in peace!" it shrieked. "Never come here again!"

As he finally neared the tapestry, he noticed a strange… something coming from what appeared to be a solid wall. Something he couldn't see or smell or touch, but he felt whatever it was in his chest, like a heavy, rhythmic drum too deep to be heard.

But the voice was getting closer, and was sounding even more irate than before, and despite wanting to investigate, he fled toward the dungeons. He didn't stop running until he collided with someone coming up the stairs he was running down.

"Sorry," he said, scrambling to his feet and continuing on his way.

"It's quite alright!" a girl called after him. "We are acquainted, after all!"

When they finally reached the common room, breathing heavily, boy and dog decided that this was enough of a distraction and promptly went to the dormitories to take a nap.

"Where's he been?" Draco asked, watching his brother curiously.

"No idea, but he looks like he's about to fall over," Ron said.

"He's probably just nervous about tryouts," Daphne added. "I'm sure he's fine."

Draco nodded distractedly, eyes still on the entrance to the dormitories. "You're right. He has been a bit… tense recently. Merlin knows why, though. He's sure to make the team. He's a Malfoy, after all."

Draco was then soundly pummeled with pillows, his friends having taken it upon themselves to keep him humble.

It was their duty, they decided, not only to one another, but to all of wizard kind.


End file.
